Mignonne
by lilias
Summary: After working during the summer at Weasley Whizzes, a chic young witch opens a beauty shop where her past catches up with her. Follow her quirky weirdness, woes, and crushes as she tries to bring a little humor and joy in a darkening world. Chapter 12 up
1. Default Chapter

The Day Starts With a Bang  
  
It was a typical early Thursday morning in late July at 93 Diagon Alley or as typical as any day at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The store was not going to open for another hour, but the Weasley twins never turned any prospective customers away even at the most ungodly hours. They themselves remembered the agony at the inability to pull off some stunt or blow off some test, because of missing or ineffective equipment. George had sold some bloke a few snackboxes to at three in the morning so the poor fellow to wriggle out of an Auror exam. Fred, being a kind and considerate brother, had naturally spiked George's coffee with a new "experiment" and was chuckling behind his newspaper when George finally staggered down a bare twenty minutes before they opened shop.  
  
"Hey, George," he said.  
  
"Mmmm," George cursed inaudibly as he stumbled over a capped cauldron and pulled himself into a seat. The kitchen was also a makeshift laboratory and was filled with strange concoctions.  
  
"Would you like some coffee, my wonderful brother." He offered him the cup. Bleary-eyed, George grabbed it and took a long sip.  
  
Fred peeked over his paper and waited expectantly. George swallowed. Nothing. Nothing bloody happened.  
  
George's mouth suddenly puckered, threw himself forward, and spat. Thirty- two slobbery gold teeth hit the mahogany table with a clink. There was a hiss and each tooth emitted a small strand of steam before melting into gold coins.  
  
"Pretty neat, isn't it?"  
  
"Mumph." George mumbled enthusiastically  
  
"mah eeth?" George asked.  
  
"Well, I haven't figured that out yet." George's mouth dropped and Fred could see his bare gums.  
  
"Mumph." George growled and launched himself at Fred. Fred grabbed the kitchen door and swung it open, hitting George in the nose. There was a thud of George hitting the floor, but Fred didn't look back as he fled down the stairs.  
  
George apparated at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Now, George," Fred said soothingly," we'll figure it out somehow." George took a menacing step forward and Fred scrambled back.  
  
The doorbell rang and after a final glare George went off to answer it. Fred beat him to it by apparating. He opened the door quickly trapping poor George in between the wall and glass door.  
  
A small, rumpled, and sea-sick looking teenage girl stood on the doorstep. She was wearing a wrinkled light metallic blue business suit and a matching hair tie which was hanging precariously to a few hairs. She was carrying a small silver suitcase. Her hair was hanging in thin limp curls. Though it was only 8: 20, the summer heat was already beginning to make itself noticed. In the background, there was a distant bang of the Knight Bus.  
  
"You are one of the Weasley brothers," she said softly. She was gripped the doorframe with white knuckles.  
  
"Yes. I'm Fred," Fred pointed to himself and that's George," he rapped on the glass and George tried to dislodge himself, unsuccessfully. Fred cleared his throat and began to sing in a horrible, off tune baritone.  
  
"Welcome to Weasley's Wheezes  
  
We aim to please  
  
All your vicious desires--" George dislodged himself and tackled Fred. He pulled a thermos out of his blue silk pajamas and forced the contents down Fred's throat. There was a spray of coffee and gold teeth and coins. Fred grabbed at the coins which disappeared with a soft pop. As each coin disappeared a tooth reappeared in his mouth. George dashed upstairs to regain his teeth.  
  
"Can we help you?" Fred asked. The girl opened her mouth to say something and then doubled over and puked all over the floor. "Accio Puking Pastilles." Breaking off the purple half, he offered it to her. "Scourify," he waved his wand to clean the mess.  
  
Then in a very gentlemanly manner, he picked her up and carried her into the backroom which was used for signing contracts with important customers. She blushed vividly the whole time. He put her on the white suede couch.  
  
"So, do you feel better?"  
  
"Much, thanks." She spoke with a slight American accent and even with her light brown her and blue eyes, there was something exotic about her. "Oh." Her cerulean eyes widened suddenly and she giggled. Fred turned around.  
  
It was George and he had his teeth back, but they were arranged oddly.  
  
"I am going to beat the pulp out of you, you bloody git." George snarled.  
  
"What's your name?" Fred asked the girl.  
  
"Mignonne Davis. I--I," she stuttered and blushed again. "Well. I saw an ad in the paper about your shop and well I like inventing stuff too."  
  
"Oh, really. What?" Fred asked brightly. George sulked grumpily. Somehow it seemed to be a breach of etiquette to pound his brother in front of girl.  
  
"Beauty products." Fred visually dropped.  
  
"You should try Madame Jolie down the street." George said brusquely and cracked his knuckles.  
  
"Well." She opened her suitcase and pulled out a small container. "Mr. George?"  
  
"No, it's Fred." Said the crooked-tooth twin.  
  
"He's pulling your leg." Said the straight tooth twin.  
  
"Will the twin with the mismatched teeth please try this?" She opened it and offered him what looked like a mint.  
  
He ate it.  
  
"Peppermint," he breathed and his bed head hair flattened. His crinkled pajamas smoothed out and the circles under his eyes diminished slightly. He smiled and Fred guffawed. George's teeth were straight now, but a very light shimmering purple. George frowned and Jeanette gave him a small mirror.  
  
"This should bleach them back." She said, she handed him a small perfume bottle. "Spray it into your mouth."  
  
George didn't even hesitate. After so much self-testing, it can become routine to use strange products on oneself.  
  
"I--well, I'm from the Salem Witch Institute. Well, I used to go there and while I created beauty products, I stumbled over some other things. I was hoping to sell some of them to you so I could open my own shop."  
  
"We're a joke shop." Fred told her gently. She smiled sheepishly. "It sounded like a good plan on the bus." She looked as if Christmas had been canceled. She stood up.  
  
"Let's see what you got." George said soothingly.  
  
She opened the suitcase on her lap and began pulling vials out of the suitcase and putting them on the low coffee table in front of her. The twins realized that case had been magically expanded on the inside. There was bottles of tonic of halitosis, body odor, essence of acne, essence of boils, something to turn teeth purple, and a funky mossy green liquid. "Highly flammable," she said. She also had a foot of parchment with illusion spells that changed facial features, added expenditures, and etc. After setting out the wares, she shut the suitcase and put it on the floor. She looked up at the Weasley twins hopefully.  
  
"Those illusion spells," Fred said, picking up the parchment," how do you use them?"  
  
"You can anchor them onto a solid object. Metal works well and so does glass, but plastic doesn't. Most cloths will take it, except the Muggle synthetic kind." Fred nodded.  
  
George prodded the bottle of what looked like pond scum. It tipped over, hit the ground, and began glow.  
  
"Get down," Jeanette shouted and they all jumped behind the couch. There was a earth shattering explosion and a cloud of vile green smoke. They peeked over the edge of the couch. There was a smoking five foot crater in the ground, the table was reduced to toothpicks, and the ceiling was charred. The whole front of the couch was gone.  
  
"Damn and we damage-proofed the whole house. Blimey, that's only a pint if we could purify the stuff, Fred. Just think." George turned to Jeanette. "We'll buy the whole lot off of you for 100 galleons." Jeanette gaped.  
  
"Two hundred and we'll let you keep the rights to use it yourself. That's our final offer." Fred said. They shook on it.  
  
"We've been needing some part-time help. Are you interested about working for us? I know you want to open a beauty shop, but maybe you work just for the summer. Keep shop for a few hours a day and spend another few in the lab. Maybe six sickles an hour, room, board, and use of our lab."  
  
"I don't know--" inside Jeanette was already weakening. She didn't know where to stay, she didn't have much money or at least not in a form that was not suspicious, she had to develop more products.  
  
"Seven sickles." Said George.  
  
"That would be wonderful."  
  
"You're hired, Miss Davis. Welcome onboard." 


	2. Girl's Day Out

Disclaimer: Once I won a free drink at McDonald's Monopoly game, but as far as I know there is not a prize for the ownership of HP.  
  
Author's Note: The main character's name is Jeanette and the beauty shop she eventually opens is called Mignonne. Sorry 'bout the mix up. (Mignonne by the way means "cute" in French. I found out at freetranslation.com.) And just for time reasons, I'm setting the story in late June instead of July.  
  
Please feel free to tell me if you feel Jeanette is a Mary Sue or not. Looks do not signify a Mary Sue. If Jeanette wasn't so good at making beauty potions, she wouldn't be selling them. *hint* *hint* (audience blinks blankly at author.) Author sighs. BIG HINT: "Well, guess who tries out the potions after Jeanette makes them?"  
  
Shopping  
  
An hour later after a square meal for the first time in three days, Jeanette was settled into the spare bedroom that had been used for storage. The spare equipment had been moved into the hallway. Her room was small with two dirty windows. Though obviously brilliant, the twins seemed to possess no housecleaning skills whatsoever. They were teenage boys. The carpet was unstained since the room hadn't really been touched since they moved in, but there was a thin layer of dust covering everything.  
  
Unpacking was quick and easy. After wiping the shelves, she put away a large collection of books. Following that were the beauty care products on the desk, she didn't have a vanity yet. She hid a thick folder in the drawer of her desk and placed a small menagerie of stuffed animals onto her bed. She didn't have to put away any clothes besides the ones she was wearing. She took a mint to straighten her appearance. She still looked tired and she felt horrible. But after traveling nonstop three days, one couldn't expect oneself to look in tip-top shape.  
  
When Fred found out of her lack of clothing, he insisted that he take her shopping.  
  
"You can't be an employee if you look more formal than us and a Muggle at that." He told her, gesturing to the pantsuit. "Not that I don't like Muggles, but who'll take you seriously?" He added hastily, seeing her angry look. Leaving George to keep shop, Fred led Jeanette into out the store into the street.  
  
"Do you have a bank account?" He asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"How silly of me, you must be the same age as my sister. How old are you?"  
  
"Sixteen," she said nervously.  
  
"Liar." He replied. "You're a shrimp." To prove his point, he put his elbow on her shoulder and leaned. "Perfect armrest." She shifted to the side and he almost fell over.  
  
"Am not." She laughed.  
  
"You're either a midget or thirteen years old." He mussed her hair.  
  
"I am not a midget."  
  
"So you're thirteen?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then why are you blushing?" This made her flush more. Fred decided he rather liked it when she blushed. It made her cute. Not as adorable as Ginny, of course, but cute in an awkward, attempting to be grown up sort of way.  
  
"I've never had a bank account before and I don't need one." She said.  
  
"Don't try to change the subject, Shrimp." He put his arm around her shoulder and no matter she wiggled, she couldn't get away.  
  
"You're squishing me into the ground." She told him. "I'm going to be short forever."  
  
"You're saying it like it's a bad thing." However, he stopped leaning on her, grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd. "My brother, Bill, works at Gringotts. He'll open an account for you in a jiffy."  
  
"I don't need one."  
  
"Of course you do."  
  
"I didn't bring all the gold."  
  
"Where is it?"  
  
"In my suitcase."  
  
"Accio suitcase." Jeanette winced at the sound of shattering glass and the silver suitcase zoomed high into the sky before bomb diving at Fred. A witch screamed. Someone dropped their bags and there was a squelch of potion ingredients being stepped on as the crowd scattered or ducked. He caught it with both hands and hit the ground with an 'oomph.' He got up quickly and dusted himself off. Two witches were helping an old, fragile looking wizard up. They shot Fred angry looks.  
  
"People are so excitable these days." He said briskly. Jeanette laughed again.  
  
Jeanette was a bit reluctant to enter Gringotts. In fact, Fred almost had to drag her in. Finally, she consented after putting on a pair of dark sunglasses.  
  
"Goblins creep me out." She whispered.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"They can see through illusions," she said.  
  
"What, are you hiding a really bad case of acne?" She blushed and he stammered. "Well, there's nothing shameful about having bad skin. Mum has the perfect recipe. Take off those glasses, they make you look stupid. Oh! Hullo, Bill." Fred waved enthusiastically and knocked off her glasses. "Whoops. Sorry, Shrimp." He grinned charmingly. Though he didn't really sound sorry at all. He had broken them. She slipped them into her pocket.  
  
A tall, very handsome red headed boy waved back. Though Fred had a rather mischievous cuteness about him, Bill was fine.  
  
"Hi Fred."  
  
"It's George." Jeanette looked at Fred in surprise. "Joking."  
  
"So, you have a girlfriend?"  
  
"No, my first employee. A fellow inventor. Her name is Jeanette Davis."  
  
"Hi, I'm ashamed to admit that I'm his brother." She shook the hand he offered.  
  
"Nice to meet you. You have lovely hair." She eyed his long reddish gold hair almost hungrily. The hair poking out of the ponytail seemed to curl. She'd never had a sample of curly hair before. She could create a whole line of products just for curly hair.  
  
"Really." He replied, he patted it. "My mum hates it."  
  
"Can I have some?" She asked eagerly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"She makes beauty products." Said Fred, not to be ignored. "She'll be here just for the summer."  
  
"What's a nice girl like you working for Fred? Funny, you don't look crazy." Said Bill to Jeanette. She sniffed indignantly.  
  
"Hey!" said Fred indignantly. "She needs to open an account."  
  
"Alright. Work now, talk later. So are you transferring money?"  
  
"No, this is my first account."  
  
"Well, fill out these forms okay."  
  
Five minutes later, Fred, Jeanette, Bill, and a goblin named Wormwood were hurtling down underground tunnels in a rickety old cart. Wormwood was ugly, wrinkled, and about three feet tall. He wore a pair of half moon jeweled spectacles and pressed suit. He looked grumpy, perhaps it was because of Fred. Fred put his hands up in the air and whooped every time they turned. Bill chitchatted with Wormwood, who mostly ignored him and kept glancing at Jeanette or Fred. She sat wedged between Bill and Fred. She didn't grab someone's limb for dear life nor did seem to be enjoying the ride. Every time they jolted, she'd close her eyes and mutter something. Bill thought she might be praying. In reality, she was muttering "stay calm" over and over again. It was a whole lot better than the dreadful Knight Bus.  
  
After a period of time that seemed too short for Fred and an eternity to Jeanette, they stopped. Jeanette got out of the cart and the goblin produced two keys and opened the safe. Jeanette deposited the majority of the gold and stepped back into cart. This time she sat in front next to the goblin where there was more room. He started the cart again and Fred again pretended he was on a roller coaster and this time Bill joined him. Boys.  
  
"Mr. Wormwood?"  
  
"Yes, Miss." Replied the goblin.  
  
"Do you deal in jewels?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Could I sell some through you?"  
  
"Perhaps. Depends on the quality." When the cart stopped, Wormwood led her into another hallway. Fred tried to follow.  
  
"Customers only," said Wormwood curtly.  
  
"Well, I must be getting back to work." Said Bill as a gorgeous, willowy blonde walked past him and waved. He ran after her, "Fleur!"  
  
"I'll wait outside." Fred said.  
  
The room was a blinding white and desks lined the sides. Goblins were examining gems of every color and size in the room.  
  
"This is Griphook," said Wormwood. He led her in front of an extremely wide goblin. Opening her suitcase, she gave him a half-filled silk bag. Griphook promptly emptied the sack onto his desk. Pearls of all colors and sizes rolled around.  
  
There were black ones the size of her thumb, milky ones the size of marbles, blue ones, pink ones, green ones, a peachy orange, and dark silver. Griphook examined them one by one, sighing softly.  
  
"Are these yours?" Griphook asked suspiciously.  
  
"My dowry." He nodded grimly.  
  
"Are you sure you want to sell them?"  
  
"How trustworthy is your relationship between customer and bank?" She asked softly.  
  
"Very good."  
  
"Will anyone know that I have these?"  
  
"No, not if you don't want anyone to know." She bit her lip. She loved those pearls, each one was like a memory. But she could get more easily enough. Besides she couldn't open a shop without money.  
  
"Sell them." She said finally. "Can you make sure that buyers will not know who I am?"  
  
"As you wish. The gold will be transferred into your account shortly."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Wormwood led her through a stairway and she emerged on the ground floor of the bank. Fred was waiting impatiently. He grabbed her arm.  
  
Diagon Alley was small and quaint in Jeanette's eyes. She was used to the huge super malls of wizard America. Everything seemed so ancient. The cobblestone floors, wooden signposts, and even the bank. In America, Muggle and Wizard went side by side. Though Muggles didn't know that. There were very few wizard communities and were mostly in the East or North. People who lived in them were considered odd. Muggles and wizards used the same currency and the government was a copy of the Muggle government. Wizard stores invisible to the Muggle eye stood side by side Muggle stores. Robes were considered stuffy and formal in carefree California and people opted to wear lighter and cooler tanktops and short. To Jeanette, it was like stepping into a history book in a neat sort of way.  
  
First stop was a trunk. She bought a handsome rosewood trunk with a padded and expandable interior. Next were clothes at Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop. She had two sets of robes made, one black and Fred insisted on a light iridescent aquamarine one (to bring out the color of her eyes.) They had only known each other for a few hours and Fred was already trying to bully her into buying things in a kind, brotherly sort of way. He claimed that he was experienced with these sorts of matters, because he had a sister. Jeanette asked him if his sister allowed him to make decisions for her and Fred said no. Jeanette smirked.  
  
She also bought several yards of cotton, wool, and a few of silk. She preferred Muggle clothing, it was much prettier and there was a lot more choice. She left Madame Malkin's wearing new black robes. She had caught quite a few stares earlier this morning wearing the Muggle clothing. They stopped for a bite to eat and Fred treated her to ice cream. Later, she bought several books on dermatology, transfiguration, charms, and potion making. Though Fred and George based most of their inventions on potions, Jeanette preferred to lay charms on things. She also bought parchment and a collapsible, no-fire cauldron which Fred opposed.  
  
"We have plenty at home." He claimed. However, Jeanette wanted one for personal use. Besides, you'd never know what the twin's cauldrons had been through. Fred vehemently refused to allow her to buy potion ingredients, but bought some frog spleen for himself. The last stop was Ollivanders.  
  
It looked very much like on of those old old pharmacies with layers and layers of tiny drawers the carried wands instead of powders. Fred met a friend, Lee Jordan, so Jeanette went in by herself. Half an hour later, she walked out happily.  
  
"Look at my new wand." She said. Pulling it a slender, silver stick. "Beech. Nine and a half inches. A phoenix feather and two unicorn hairs." She said proudly.  
  
"Very pretty. So, what happened to your old one?"  
  
"The driver of the Knight Bus is like a Muggle New York Taxi cab driver."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"He's a truly gifted driver."  
  
"Really," Fred said skeptically.  
  
"Yeah, gifted at making people puke. My wand was in my pocket and we had a quick turn and I fell and well it broke." She said sadly. "If I had more gold, I would have sued." She told him brightly. She slipped the wand back into her pocket and walked next to him, the trunk followed a couple inches behind.  
  
"Hot-headed Americans." Fred sighed in a heavy British accent.  
  
"Stiff-upper lip Brits." She attempted to say in a Texan accent and failed miserably. She laughed.  
  
"How am I going to survive with such a brilliant girl on my hands? She has a virtuosity of a parrot." She shoved his arm and he leaned heavily on her.  
  
"Stop it." He stopped and then tugged her hair. She let out a frustrated cry.  
  
"You're more amusing than Ginny." He pinched her cheek and she growled. "Let's go home, Shrimp."  
  
"Don't call me that."  
  
"Okay, Shrimp."  
  
"Fred."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Now that I have a wand again. Next time, you're mean to me, you'll end up as a frog. Freddy the frog."  
  
"I wouldn't bet on it, Shrimp cuz I'm your boss." He tweaked her nose.  
  
"FRED!" She kicked him and he yelped. 


	3. Attack of the Dust Bunnies

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and company. I don't even own an action figure of Harry Potter and company. So don't sue me or I'll have to set my dog on you.  
  
Chapter 3: Purified  
  
Besides Fred and George's horrible housekeeping skills, they also had no aptitude in cooking. It seemed downright hilarious that they could whip up complicated potions with no sweat and yet it was a daily trial to make toast and eggs. They told Jeanette that they usually ate out on the weekdays which took a big chunk out of their profits (together it seemed that they could eat more than a full grown giant) and they visited their parent's home on weekends. At least once a week their mother would bring something and check up on them.  
  
Jeanette, who thought a slight messiness was cozy, was horrified by the sight of the kitchen, the twin's rooms, and the shop after a good look. It had never occurred to the twins to use a mop. They'd used a cleaning spell every once in a while, but never a good scrub. Therefore, the kitchen floor was forever sticky and smelled like old cheese. There were several scorch marks on the table, acid burns on the floor, and a whole chunk of the wall had been taken out (from one of the more flamboyant experiments George had said.) The whole place was also cluttered with cauldrons, trash, takeout boxes, and to make things worse they were breeding some sort of maggot in the trashcans. The area around the trashcan was molding and there was a disgusting crust on some parts of the floor. There was nothing but butterbeer and potions in the fridge.  
  
When Jeanette asked how in the world did their mother put up with this mess, they replied that they had never actually let her see anything beyond the shop and the sitting room where they had enough sense to clean every night.  
  
Their rooms were worse. The drapes drawn low, bedding all over the place, it reeked like old coffee and ink. Empty and almost empty bottles of the Muggle invention called coke and Starbucks littered the floor. The desks were covered with parchment. There were spills and stains all over the place. There were mushrooms growing out of the carpet and they squeaked when she nudged one with her foot!!!!!  
  
The store had no organization whatsoever though Fred and George seemed to know where everything was. The floor was cleanest, because their mother saw it. Since Jeanette had arrived on a Friday, George thought she might as well start on Monday and get settled in. "Girls," he said, "took a notoriously long time to get settled in."  
  
The two also made it clear that under no circumstances was she to pick up the disgusting practice of cleaning and bossing them around about their eating habits. However, while Fred and George were busy talking to Bill and his girlfriend, Fleur Delacore, at dinner at the Leaky Cauldron's, Jeanette got a location of a particularly good store that stocked powerful cleaning potions and of a weekly open air market from the witch sitting close to them.  
  
Early Saturday morning, Jeanette got out of bed long before the twins and set off for the open air market with a basket and a dolly. After getting a nice selection of produce, milk, eggs, and meat, she went to Suds 'R Us and bought a crate of cleaning supplies. She loaded it on the dolly and charmed the thing to follow her to Madame Malkins for a bolt of semi- transparent blue material that would make nice curtains. She charged the bolt of cloth and the new fridge on Weasley's account. They wouldn't find out until next month.  
  
"What are you going to do?" Madame Malkins questioned, looking curiously at the crate.  
  
"Preparing for war." Jeanette replied.  
  
"Against the Dark Lord?" Madame Malkin said incredulously.  
  
"No, the dust bunnies."  
  
"Oh," said the shop owner and generously donated an armful of rags for the cause.  
  
It was ten thirty when she got back to the shop and the twins were still fast asleep. She hid the cleaning supplies in her room, put back the dolly, and cooked four egg omelets for each of the boys. She felt a bit sorry for them. Just imagine almost three months of eating at the Leaky Cauldron two meals a day and six days a week. Didn't they get tired of it?  
  
She began to deep clean her own room. She enchanted a couple of rags to rhythmically scrub the windows. All of her bedding boiled in her cauldron. She had used a few squirts of her Beach Day Bubble Bath and a capful detergent. She used an entire jar of her Euphoric foot scrub (with built in cheering charm) to scour the tiled bathroom.  
  
Borrowing two of Fred and George's cauldrons she made a big batch of lemon scented body scrub and Strawberry Milkshake Moisturizer. While the moisturizer and scrub cooked, she stole a can of shaving cream and made a list of things she had to buy (and would partially charge on the twins' account.)  
  
An automatic washboard and tub. (How in the world did they keep clean before? She cringed at the thought.)  
  
Lots of glass jars (that was for the leftover scrub and moisturizer. She hoped there would still be some left.)  
  
More salt for scrubs  
  
Some pots and pans. (they only had one frying pan)  
  
Paper towels  
  
Plates, forks, cups, and other eating utensils (Barbarians, thought Jeanette.)  
  
Happy Camper anywhere anytime water hose with five settings. (she had a feeling that kitchen crust wasn't going to get off the floor without a fight.)  
  
Lots and lots of boxes (for packing things)  
  
Lots and lots of scrub brushes (to scrub the crust off the kitchen floor. Gross!)  
  
Lots and lots of shaving cream  
  
Fred and George barely caught sight of Jeanette all day. She was either in her room, shopping, or going up and down the stairs. The entire hallway reeked of pleasant smelling substances. She declined both lunch and dinner. They were a bit worried but stayed as far as possible from the vile hallway. If they only knew that she had two pounds of blueberries in her room, they would not have been half as sympathetic. They never expected anything.  
  
At ten the next morning, the twins apparated to their parent's home. They told her that they would be back around 10 at night. As soon as they left, she changed into a military uniform (which she had transfigured from some of the cloth she bought yesterday) and launched her first attack. She had cleaned all ten of their cauldrons the night before while they had been at dinner. The sitting room was also clean and repaired. She stowed them all in the basement now with the three new washing boards (one couldn't be enough) and a new fridge. Five cauldrons were immediately occupied with cleaning dirty clothes from the twins rooms and bedding. Another two cauldrons were boiling all the glass bottles she found in their rooms. It amazed her that they chose to use the kitchen as a lab instead of the basement. Boys, she sighed.  
  
Next, she moved all the potions from the fridge in the kitchen to the fridge in the basement. She stocked the kitchen fridge with real food which she had charged on the Weasely's account. How they stayed so lean and trim on junk food was beyond her and she was slightly jealous. She levitated the trashcan with the maggots surround it with an inescapable charm and also stowed it in the basement. She boxed all the twins papers, books, and anything else that wasn't trash. George had a quite an impressive collection of magical creature droppings and hair clippings. His dragon dropping was about the size of a tire. She charmed all the stores boxes, cans, bottles, and jars to hop into boxes.  
  
After she moved all the boxes to the basement which was getting very crowded. The boxes had also been charged to the Weasley account. She dumped the clothes into the washtubs and air dried the bottles. Then she had lunch (ham sandwich and strawberries.) She set up a few clothes lines and dried the clothes.  
  
Now it was time for phase two. She sealed her room and the basement, opened all the windows and doors, hooked up the hose, and had a grand time flooding the apartment and shop. The water drained out the front the door. She used about a quarter of the cauldron of body scrub (self-scrubbing of course) on the bathrooms, half on the kitchen, the rest on the store floor (the bad boys had used illusion charms and the floor was a lot dirtier then she had previously thought.) She had to use the rest of her Euphoric foot scrub (also self scrubbing) on the floor too. She shut the front door. People were gazing curiously in through the front door. She saturated the carpet with Stain Be Gone and her entire supply of wonderful little cornmeal and baking soda Bath Biscuits were skating in the bathtubs and sinks. Her Peach Passion exfoliating wipes were break dancing with the furniture, counters, and other wooden surfaces. The rags busied themselves with windows and mirrors. Conveniently, blocking the view from inquisitive onlookers.  
  
Using rain boots, she journeyed to the basement and conjured a small whirlwind to dry the clothes. Then she got them to fold themselves and jump inside the now dry cauldrons.  
  
It was fourteen and a half hundred hours by the time she was ready for the third phase. She hooked up the hose again and washed away most of the dirt. She hosed down the carpets and watched the mossy muddy looking water run down the wood stairs and out the door. She hosed the kitchen and watched the reddish brown river run down the stairs. She hosed the scrub in the bathroom down the toilet. The twins' water bill would go through the roof this month. She hosed until the store floor was clean.  
  
But now it was the time for the deep cleaning and purging. Phase four started at fifteen and a quarter hundred hours. She conjured two whirlwinds in the twins bedrooms and warded the doors. She dumped all the detergents into her cauldron and set loose her army of (three boxes) a hundred and fifty scrub brushes. She had only charged two boxes on the Weasleys.  
  
Marching in a four files, they dunked themselves into the cleaning solution and separated into divisions of twenty-five. One was split between the bathrooms. One division began to scrub the stairs. Two worked on the kitchen. (including the ceiling and walls which were still filthy. Jeanette had been afraid to use scrub for fear of taking off paint.) The last two took the floor.  
  
Using three parts shaving cream and one part Strawberry Milkshake moisturizer, she used her loofah gloves to give kitchen furniture and banister full body massages. She warded the carpeted hallway and set a whirlwind lose in it. She then went down and stood on the store counter like Mickey Mouse in her favorite Muggle movie Fantasia except she didn't fall asleep. She made curtains instead (with her wand of course.)  
  
At sixteen hundred hours, she stopped the whirlwinds and sent the clothes filled cauldrons floating up the stairs and into their respective rooms. One of the scrub brushes got carried away and tried to attack one of the cauldrons. She reassigned it to the floor. Then she sent some of packed things and glass bottles up too.  
  
At sixteen and a half hundred hours, she covered the hallways carpet with a water repelling charm and hosed the kitchen, stairs, and store floor one last time. The brushes washed themselves with the water and also the cauldron before retreating with the cauldron and most of the gloves to her room. She rinsed out the bathrooms.  
  
She locked herself in George's bedroom while she set a whirlwind in the house. She put away his clothes in his closet, put his very few books on his desk, organized his dung collection on the walls, put up some curtains, and made his bed. When she was finally finished and having the loofah gloves massage the shaving cream and strawberry lotion into the bed and desk. She thought she heard soft whimpering under the bed. She found a terrified but very clean niffler hiding under his bed. It wouldn't come out.  
  
She left the box of papers on his desk for George to sort out. At eighteen hundred hours hours, Jeanette was exhausted but there was more to do. She dissolved the whirlwind and mournfully unbottled the last of her lotion on the floor and all of the twin's shaving cream (they could always use her scented shower gel tomorrow morning) and had nine out of her ten gloves massage it into the wooden floor. The tenth pair of gloves carried two handfuls of the mixture to rub into Fred's bed and desk.  
  
Boxes and boxes stacked themselves on the store counter. She would organize it later. She staggered into the clean kitchen, the tiles were white instead of the beige before the scrubbing. A few boxes followed her and sat themselves down on the table. She opened the boxes and dishes, cups, and silverware shot out and began putting themselves into the cabinets. Wary of the flying saucers, she carefully grabbed a few apples for the niffler and herself.  
  
When she passed Fred's room, she thought she heard a low humming sound. She glanced inside. A long thin pink snake seemed to be coming from out of the closet and trying to eat the makeshift varnish on the bed frame. One of the gloves was furiously trying to slap the snake away, but it was adamant.  
  
Putting the apples in her pockets, she went to investigate. The pink snake was wet and slimy when she touched it. It seemed to be as repulsed as she was, because it pulled deeper into the closet and disappeared. Cautiously, she stuck her hand out in the area it had disappeared and felt cloth. She pulled it off and uncovered a cage with a very fluffy Puffskein in it. Using her wand to slice an apple into quarters, she pushed the pieces into the cage. She hung up the invisibility cloak. Then she picked up the cage and put it in George's room.  
  
She rolled an apple under the bed and she was surprised when it rolled back out. The niffler had an attitude. She smirked. The Puffskein began to hum again and a snout emerged from under the bed sniffing. A small, black furry creature soon crept out and ignoring Jeanette, went to greet the Puffskein who hummed louder. She let the Puffskein out of the cage and it began to roll around in the room.  
  
Jeanette decided to leave the friends together and closed the door behind her. Puffskein seemed mischievous. She went back to Fred's room. It seemed that the Puffskein had eaten most of the lotion, so she opened a bottle of Cocoa Crème and poured some into one of the gloves. She opened the cauldron and sent the clothes into the closet, she made the bed, put up the curtains, put the box of paper and books on the desk, and went downstairs.  
  
It was now nineteen hundred and a half hours. She had to organize the store. She opened the door to let the strawberry scented room to air out, but covered the door with an opaque charm. Then she opened the boxes. Like a conductor, she began to wave her wand. The cans, bottles, little boxes, and containers began to organize themselves into little groups. Pranks to the right, things you did to yourself on the left. She ate her apple while she watched.  
  
She charmed the side wall to produce a line of hooks to hang the invisibility hats on. She then sent the products onto the shelves by alphabetical order. Canary cremes toward the front and puking pastilles toward the back. Finally, she transfigured the boxes into signs that labeled each shelf. For instance the first row on the right said "Angel Food (the victim sprouted wings, a halo, was levitated six feet above the ground, and was forced to sing hymns) --Dinosorpor" (It was a tasteless powder. Put it in drinks and your friend and he'll hallucinate that's he's being chased by terrible lizards.)  
  
She closed the front door and put a curtain over the glass. Then she went down to the basement. She noticed the cauldrons were still in the rooms and she called them down. Soon the gleaming cauldrons were against the wall and so were the washboards. The basement was the only dusty place in the whole house, but she was too tired to clean it now. Besides the boys needed some dirty refuge.  
  
The kitchen was clean and neat except the boxes piled on the table and the hole in the wall. She fixed the hole and transfigured the boxes into small baskets and put them next to the sink. She'd put soap and lotion in them later. Around seventy empty glass bottles were lying on her floor. Some had been beer butter glasses and others had been filled with lotion and scrubs. Using a scouring charm, she cleaned the dirty ones, put them all in her cauldron and shoved it into her closet. She took out one scrub brush and sent the rest into her closet. The gloves were piled on her bed. She sent all but three pairs into her chest. She was going to have a nice warm bath, but first she had to check on the animals.  
  
When she opened the door, she wanted to cry. George's carpet had dirt tracked everywhere. The animals were asleep on the bed, the coverlet was dirty. Where had the dirt come from? She peeked under the bed, a flap of carpet had been pulled back revealing a magical tunnel. She decided she hated nifflers. In fact, she hated George who put the tunnel in the first place.  
  
She hit the cage with an engorging charm, grabbed the sleeping niffler by the tail (the charming fellow tried to nip her), stuffed it into the cage and locked it. The wonderfully trained Puffskein had an accident on the carpet. She put the puffskein in a bubble charm so it couldn't use its tongue. It hummed stupidly. Then she scoured the carpet. It took three tries to get the dirt out, but not the smell. She threw out the apple cores.  
  
"If you were mine," she told the animals. "I would have spanked you silly." No wonder her father had never let her have a pet. They were infuriating. She encased the niffler in a bubble charm and levitated it. "I hate you." She told it. "Now, I am going to have my much needed bath. "YOU," she addressed the Puffskein who was still humming idiotically, "shut up." She kicked it to her bathroom.  
  
She drew a relaxing lavender bath, washed the gloves. Once clean they immediately began to give her a massage. She thought she'd pass out right there. She finally noticed the Puffskein when it tried to roll out the door and kept bonking against the doorframe. It really was quite dim. She picked it up and adhered it the bathtub. Turning on some relaxing Mozart, she removed the sweaty, sticky, and grimy military uniform. She would have to conjure a laundry basket later. She got into the warm tub and leaned against the Puffskein. It made a wonderful pillow. The gloves rubbed her feet. Another pair wet her hair, while yet another brought over a small amphora of rose scented shampoo. After returning the amphora back to the cabinet. The third pair of began to work it into her hair while the second pair rubbed her sore shoulders and arms.  
  
She must have fallen asleep at some time, because when she woke up she was wrinkly from the water and the gloves were shaking her. She drained the tub and took a refreshing cold shower. Then she remembered the Puffskein. Wickedly, she undid the bubble charm and sprayed it with the cold water. The silence charm kept it quiet and it also kept its tongue in check. It rolled around trying to avoid the water and she hosed it. Finally, it began to cry big purple tears and she felt guilty. She took off the silence charm. She got the gloves to pat it dry. Then she charmed them into cleaning the bathroom. They didn't do a very orderly job, but she was tired.  
  
It was nine twenty. She had only slept about forty five minutes. She put on a pair of pajamas. She thought they were cute. She had transfigured them two days ago. They were made pale blue cotton cloth. It was a spaghetti strap top with fist sized picture of what looked like a fat red baby chicken sleeping on a cloud and matching pants with pastel purple clouds on them. The bird was supposed to be a phoenix, but Jeanette was never really the artistic type. She brushed her teeth, and put another bubble charm on the Puffskein. She put the pets in their owner's rooms. She adhered the Puffskein to the bed. Though she had forgiven it and that horrible, stupid, clumsy, filthy niffler. Okay, so maybe she hadn't quite forgiven the niffler, but she didn't want the Puffskein rolling around and knocking something over. She transfigured a few boxes into laundry baskets and put them in the bathrooms. She left her military uniform on the floor. Too tired, she thought, she could always put it away later. She still had about five boxes left in her closet. She'd figure out something. She walked around, everything seemed orderly. She peeked into all the rooms. Nice and clean. She was too tired to eat or sleep. So went back to Fred's room and got the Puffskein.  
  
She lay her bed and threw it up and down. It hummed. Suddenly, it began to hum excitedly. The door downstairs opened. The twins were home.  
  
(Author's Note: The Niffler and Puffskein can both be found in Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander. "A Niffler is (I'm copying straight of the book) a British beast. Fluffy, black, and long-snouted, this burrowing creature has a predilection for anything glittery. Nifflers are often kept by goblins to burrow deep into the earth for treasure. Though the Niffler is gentle and even affectionate, it can be destructive to belongings and should never be kept in a house. Nifflers live in lairs up to twenty feet below the surface and produce six to eight young in a litter." (page 30)  
  
Guess no one ever told George a niffler is a bad pet. It's sure giving Jeanette heartache.even with the magical tunnel.  
  
"A Puffskein is found worldwide. Spherical in shape and covered in soft, custard-colored fur, it is a docile creature that has no objection tobeing cuddled or thrown about. Easy to care for, it emits a low humming noise when contented. From time to time a very long, thin, pink tongue will emerge from the thedephs of the Puffskein and snake through the house searching for food." There's a bit more about the Puffskein's eating habits (it likes eating boogers.) I took the liberty to give the Puffskein eyes. Hope you purists aren't upset.  
  
Please R & R.) 


	4. love labors lost

Love. Labors. Lost  
  
"Mum!" said Fred or George.  
  
"I insist on coming in." A voice said huffily.  
  
"It's late. She's probably asleep." Said one of the twins. Jeanette sat up. They were talking about her. She strained her ears. The Puffskein rolled off her lap and down the hallway. She hissed at it, but it paid no heed. It could roll pretty fast when it wanted to.  
  
"I can believe you left a child hear all day by herself. She must have been so lonely." Jeanette crept after the Puffskein and grabbed it right before it rolled down the stairs. She could see the Weasley twins downstairs or at least their silhouettes. The lights were out and their backs were to her. She could just make out a small round figure. Jeanette assumed that was Mrs. Weasley. There were three or four figures behind her.  
  
"You didn't object at first."  
  
"I thought she was your age." Said Mrs. Weasley furiously. "You irresponsible boys."  
  
"Mum, she can take of herself." Said Bill. He was one of the tall figures. "She came all by herself from America."  
  
"Oh, shame on you." Admonished Mrs. Weasley. "She must of idolized you two to come so far by herself and you JUST LEFT HER ALONE." A flush rose up on Jeanette's cheeks. Really, she wasn't that pathetic. Mrs. Weasley sounded as if she thought Jeanette was some star struck teenager. "--SHAME." continued Mrs. Weasley. The Puffskein wiggled out of her arms and rolled the stairs, making bouncing noises as it went. Should she make a run for it or run after the Puffskein? If she stayed put, it would have looked like she had been eavesdropping. She had been eavesdropping. She flushed again.  
  
She took a step and the lights came on.  
  
"What are you doing out of your cage, Stupid Git?" Fred picked up the Puffskein.  
  
"Don't call it names." Jeanette said.  
  
"That's its name. Stupid Git." Fred said automatically. He looked up surprised. Everyone else stared at her. "See Mum, she's perfectly fine. She didn't blow herself up."  
  
"Oh, come down her and let me take a look at you." Reluctantly, she walked down the stairs. She was surprised to see that she was the same height as Mrs. Weasley. "Aren't you cold? You're so thin. George! Fred! Don't you feed her? Were you alright? Were you frightened? They will never ever leave you alone like that again." Mrs. Weasley glared at her sons. Jeanette was flustered. All this fussing over made her nervous. "Were you lonely?"  
  
"No, I was very busy."  
  
"What did you do, my dear?"  
  
"Stuff."  
  
"Merlin's beard! What did you do?" George had finally looked up and noticed that things had been reorganized.  
  
"I cleaned." Fred turned purple. Stupid Git let out a squeal. Fred was squeezing it. Jeanette looked down at her bare feet.  
  
"But.but I thought you said you were going to explore London." Said George.  
  
"I deliberately told you not to clean." Said Fred. Stupid Git started to cry again, but no one except Jeanette noticed. "I can fire you."  
  
Mrs. Weasley cuffed him. "Fred! I think it looks marvelous, darling." Jeanette wanted to disappear. It had never occurred to her that Fred would be mad, maybe annoyed or irked but not furious.  
  
"Can we come in?" A voice asked.  
  
"Yeah." George said. He moved so the rest of the Weasleys could pile in. Stupid Git began to squeal loudly, Fred threw it. It hit a shelf and knocked over a few cans. Jeanette picked it up and stroked it. It began to hum within seconds, but Fred's mood wasn't so quick to change and neither was Jeanette's.  
  
She guessed that she looked so pathetic that a red haired girl came over and put her hand on her shoulder.  
  
"The whole place smells like bloody strawberries." He snapped. Jeanette wanted to shrink and die. Instead, she turned to the girl next to her. She must be the sister that Fred had talked about.  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Come and see my room."  
  
"Okay." Ginny smiled a little too brightly and they started walking toward the stairs.  
  
"Don't you dare move."  
  
"Oh, sod off." Ginny snapped.  
  
"Hey, wait for me." A very tall boy called.  
  
"The whole family came?"  
  
"Well, Charlie is in Romania, but other than that yes." Ginny said.  
  
"Have you been here before?"  
  
"Yes, with Ron. It was a mess. If Fred fires you, you can live with us."  
  
"Thanks." They reached her room and the lights came on. Ron came too and they all sat on the bed rather awkwardly. She had a feeling that they were all straining to hear what was going on downstairs. There was a crash.  
  
"So, you play quidditch?" asked Ron.  
  
"No, I'm not sporty." There was another crash.  
  
"Fred has a really big temper though he doesn't show it much." Ginny said helpfully.  
  
"What school do you go to?" Ron asked.  
  
"Salem Witch Institute."  
  
"Where is that?" Ron asked.  
  
"In California."  
  
"I thought it was in Massachusetts." Ginny said.  
  
"The original one was in Massachusetts. The government decided to sort of standardize the wizard school system so there's one in every state, sometimes more than one and they're all called Salem Witch Institute."  
  
"How do you tell them apart?" Ron asked.  
  
"You say, 'I went to Salem of California or CASI. People usually don't say the 'witch' part, because wizards go to."  
  
"Are you going back?" asked Ginny.  
  
"I'm done."  
  
"Done," said Ron incredulously.  
  
"As done as I'm gonna be." She replied.  
  
"Oh," sighed Ron, "for a moment I thought you were like Hermione."  
  
"BLOODY HELL!!!" There was a loud shout close by.  
  
"I think he found the kitchen." Jeanette said.  
  
"WHERE ARE MY MAGGOTS?" The bedroom door slammed open and Fred stuck his livid face in the room. Behind him were the anxious other Weasleys.  
  
"They're in the basement." Jeanette squeaked.  
  
"They'll freeze to death." He yelled and he ran down the stairs. George poked his head in.  
  
"Don't worry, he'll get over it." He mouthed.  
  
"So are you French?" asked Ginny.  
  
"No, my mom just thought the name was pretty."  
  
"MY MAGGOTS!" There was a distant yell. It was unhappy. Jeanette whimpered. She was soooo dead.  
  
Somehow everything worked out that night. Fred eventually stopped yelling, Mrs. Weasley eventually stopped yelling, George eventually stopped having to be peacemaker, and eventually the Weasleys left and everyone settled down for bed though it was nearly two by then. To Jeanette, it was all a blur the following morning and she half wished that she could forget the experience all together.  
  
Jeanette had somehow miraculously clung to her job, though Fred had made it clear that he hated her and would never ever forgive her for murdering his maggots. She hadn't meant to hurt the worms and in reality only about a quarter of them had died. The trash had provided fairly good insulation for the ones near the bottom of the cans.  
  
Around four in the morning, she woke up and remembered the Fred and George did not have any shaving cream. Fearing Fred's wrath, she dressed and went down to Diagon Alley and bought some, though she couldn't find the correct brand name. By five-twenty, she gave up and brought back the closet thing she could find.  
  
The next problem was getting the shaving cream into Fred's room without his knowledge. Unfortunately, he had locked the door. He had a deadbolt lock. She didn't remember it from yesterday. Had he put it on because of her? She didn't want to wake him up and anger him further.  
  
So naturally, she took her chances with George. Using her wand, she unlocked his door. It made a loud click and it woke him.  
  
"What are doing?" He asked when he sat up and saw her in the middle of his bedroom holding a can of Fuzzy Buzzy's all purpose shaving cream.  
  
"I used up all the shaving cream yesterday."  
  
"How?" He rubbed his eyes. His sleepy eyes trailed down to stare at her legs. She could almost hear his muddy thinking, "legs.shaving cream.shave legs.hairy cream. legs = shaving cream?"  
  
"On the furniture and store floor."  
  
"One can?"  
  
"I bought a lot."  
  
"You must have needed like fifty cans?"  
  
"I charged it on your account." George's half closed eyes snapped open.  
  
"What else did you charge on our account?" Jeanette flushed to her hairline. She had taken quite a liberty at charging things.  
  
"I'll pay for it."  
  
"For your sake, I hope you can, kiddo or Fred is going to kill you." He got up and took the can from her. "I'll tell him, I used the last can of shaving cream."  
  
"Thank you." She breathed.  
  
"Fred likes blueberry pancakes." He said in a hinting voice.  
  
"What else does he like?"  
  
"Orange juice, toast, waffles, ice cream, fresh fruit, no honey dew. He hates it. Eggs over easy, English muffins, jam, corned beef hash, and yeah, I guess that's it. That's all the stuff he likes for breakfast. Oh, and he also fancies chocolate chip cookies." She nodded and raced into the kitchen. She had enough to cover the supplies she bought in the bank and from the pearls, but the water bill and the refrigerator. How in the world was she going to come up with that?  
  
An hour later, a buffet like breakfast was set on the table, the food sitting on heated plates. She ran to her room, locked the door, and cried her eyes out. She was dead, so dead. Fred was going to murder her when he saw the water bill, she must have used like a bazillion galleons. Sneaking out again, carrying a plastic bag, she withdrew all the money she possibly could with out shutting down the account, and paid for the boxes, scrub brushes, cleaning agents, bolt of cloth, and washboards.  
  
Giving the plastic bag to the Griphook, she waited as he turned it over and examined a two pounds of marble sized grayish blue pearls, golden red ones, and rather ugly green ones. He commented that quality was not as good, but eighty galleons was enough to cover the down payment of the refrigerator and about a seventh of the water bill. She put the money into the Weasley account.  
  
It was seven forty five when she got back.  
  
"You're late." Fred snarled as he stood behind the store counter. He had a cut on his chin.  
  
"I'm sorry." Just then, the worst thing that could have possibly happened, did. An owl flew in through the open front door and dropped the Daily Prophet and a half a dozen letters on the counter. Jeanette had forgotten one very important thing. Bills came at the end of the month.  
  
Fred paled at first as he eyed the bill, then he turned gray, finally he looked up from the bill to a quaking Jeanette. He turned crimson and began to scream.  
  
(Author's Note: I know this is corny, but think of it like Mad Lab or something. You can even choose your rating from G to X. And you get to use your creativity! If you rather have me do all the thinking for you, then tell me in your review and I'd be just peachy about upping the rating.)  
  
"YOU LITTLE (&^%$^%) HOW COULD YOU (@!&#$%) USE (&^%$^%) (#%^#@*) THREE HUNDRED GALLEONS WORTH OF (&^%$^%) WATER!!! I AM GOING TO BREAK YOUR ($#*^%&) LITTLE NECK." He lunged at her and she scrambled a way and hid behind George. "GET BACK HERE, (&^%$^%) GEORGE, GIVE HER TO ME SO I CAN BEAT THE LIVING (*$#%@) OUT OF HER. SHE USED A (@#^$%) TWO HUNDRED GALLEONS OF WATER."  
  
"Two hundred?" George gasped and glanced at Jeanette. She could see him debating whether to hand her over to Fred. She ran into her room as quickly as she could. Both twins hot on her heels.  
  
"I AM (--beep--) GOING TO BREAK DOWN THE (--beep--) (--beep--) DOOR." Yelled Fred. (A/N: Got tired of using symbols. No cuss words because I'm trying to keep the rating low.)  
  
"I'll pay for it." She told him.  
  
"HOW?" He snarled and listed some very vulgar things to make money.  
  
"Fred, she's just a kid. Watch your mouth." George said. Jeanette was opening the window. If push came to shove, she'd jump.  
  
"TWO HUNDRED GALLEONS."  
  
"I know, but remember the time when we set entire attic on fire and Mum wanted to skin us alive--"  
  
"TWO HUNDRED GALLEONS. YOU'RE NOT ONLY A MAGGOT MURDERER BUT A THIEF TOO!!!" Thankfully, the door bell rang and Fred went to get it.  
  
She cautiously opened the door. George was still standing in front of it.  
  
"Did he like breakfast?" She asked gingerly. George shrugged.  
  
"You better be one hell of a cook." George told her. "If I were you, I wouldn't leave this room for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, his temper will cool a bit."  
  
"Why are you being nice to me?" Jeanette asked.  
  
"It'll be a shame for Fred to waste his life in Azkabam for throttling you. Though at the moment, you'd probably deserve it." His voice was cold and indifferent. The sort of dead serious voice that parents use when they're too upset to yell. The tone that would leave the most hardened child quaking with foreboding..  
  
"You're mad at me too." Jeanette bowed her head.  
  
"Haven't you ever learned not to touch other people's things?" He said in a soft-spoken, severe tone.  
  
"I'll pay you back."  
  
"You think we care about the money?" Jeanette stared at him. George sighed. "Well, yeah, we do care about the money, but we can make it up in a day or two. People in Japan to Zimbabwe are asking for shipments. You proved yourself to be very very untrustworthy. We thought you'd be responsible, but you turned out to be a crazy kid." George said to her. "We're not your parents, Jeanette, we're not responsible for you or your actions. We're not going to take care of you and the only thing that's between you and the street is the fact that you're a kid. Did you know Fred wanted to kick you out yesterday? Kids do stupid things, Jeanette, but you-- if you're old enough to make money and start a business than you better grow up NOW. You have a whole day to think about you're careless actions. Was your little escapade really worth all of this?"  
  
"No," Jeanette whispered, staring at the floor, totally ashamed of herself.  
  
"I didn't think so." He held her in his gaze a moment longer before closing the door and walking downstairs. As soon as the door closed, a torrent of emotions hit her like a cresting wave. HOW DARE HE TREAT HER LIKE THIS? MAKING HER GO THROUGH A GUILT TRIP LIKE A FIVE -YEAR-OLD CAUGHT STEALING CANDY. She thought furiously. Well, you did act irresponsibly, a little voice told her. I DID IT FOR THEM, THEY WERE LIVING LIKE PIGS. Yes, they were, but that didn't give you the right to use their account like that. IT WASN'T LIKE A BIG DEAL. THEIR HOUSE SURE NEEDED IT. Jeanette, the little voice chided her. She growled, defeated. "two hundred galleons.two hundred galleons," the words echoed over and over in her head. She pursed her lips and sat down, her head leaning against the bed. How in the world was she going to make two hundred galleons.  
  
She broke out her cauldron and started brewing. The heat was horrible and her hair grew damp and limp. She put it into a bun and changed into light and slightly transparent tank top and shorts. By the end of the day, she made a whole set of relaxation products. She transfigured the bottles into artful tastes and colors and put them into a small transfigured picnic basket. There was a long letter in French describing what each item was and how it was to be used. Jeanette hoped it was correct, with only a couple years of French under her belt, a trusty dictionary, and a lot of reference to other instruction manuals in French, she had written the letter on a sheet of scented, blue boxed paper in looping (hopefully readable) script.  
  
She threw on some clothes on and wrote a quick note to George/ Fred (whoever got it first.)  
  
Dear Twins,  
  
Went to the bank. Be back soon.  
  
~J  
  
She figured that was innocent enough. She opened lowered the basket slowly out the window to the ground and created a ladder to climb down. Grabbing the basket, she raced towards Gringotts. After a few moments the heavy heat made her stop and she gasped, grabbing the front of her light cotton top and tugging it back and forth to create a light breeze.  
  
She sighed when the cold air hit her face when she opened the door. Fleur. Where was Fleur? She was a clerk, wasn't she? Jeanette began to wander toward the area Bill had been. Rounding a corner she was saw two familiar frames. Fred and George. They were talking loudly. about her. Fred was complaining quite explosively with very crude language. She had to hide. She walked quickly into a nearby empty cubicles.  
  
"She's such a little stealing (--beep--). How much (--beep--) gold has she (--beep--) taken?" asked Fred.  
  
"She's put back two hundred galleons back already. Give her a break, Fleur does it all the time. Once she took out about a hundred galleons and redid my apartment and she doesn't even live with me." Bill said soothingly.  
  
"How much did the brat take?"  
  
"Two hundred and fifty galleons."  
  
"What did she buy?"  
  
"All together or on your account?"  
  
"All," said the twins in unison.  
  
"A bolt of cloth, three crates of scrub brushes, two pounds of kosher salt, three pounds of apples, a pound of flour, three baskets of strawberries, a pound of string beans, potato--"  
  
"Just the stuff she used to clean our house with," said Fred.  
  
"Madame Zudse's delux cleaning kit, two pounds of kosher salt, three washing boards, a fridge, water, brooms, mops." the list went on for awhile.  
  
"Cost in total?"  
  
"Four hundred galleons fifteen sickles and two knuts." Bill said.  
  
"And she managed to pay off about half already? Where does she get all the money?" George asked. His voice was slightly deeper than Fred's. Footsteps were coming. Jeanette shrank into a corner.  
  
"I can't tell you."  
  
"What do you mean you can't tell us, we're family!!" said Fred.  
  
"Customer policy."  
  
"You think she's a thief?"  
  
"No, someone would have reported such a large --" A large goblin waddled into the cubicle.  
  
"Hey, what are you doing here?" He snapped.  
  
"Um.where's Miss Delacoure?" Jeanette asked, clutching the basket.  
  
"Five cubicles down." Said the Goblin, looking ready to shoo her away. She could still hear Fred and George talking to Bill, they seemed to have calmed down.  
  
"Um. I'd like to make a loan." She said quickly.  
  
"Miss, I'm sure Miss Delacoure would do that for you. Now why don't--" Jeanette's eye caught the Daily Prophet.  
  
"Can I have this?" she asked.  
  
"Sure." Said the Goblin. She grabbed the newspaper and left. She opened it all the way to cover her face and walked as quickly as she could to Fleur's cubicle, passing Bill's on the way. Thankfully, Fred and George had their backs turned to her.  
  
She dashed into Fleur's cubicle and fortunately, Fleur did not have any customers at the time. Platinum blond, willowy, with huge light blue eyes and milky skin, Fleur was everything a teenage girl could ever dream of having. She was wearing a sleek patterned blue and silver robes. The water like weave made her seem even more slender and accented her eyes..  
  
"How may I help you?" She asked, smiling professionally. She had the slightest accent, something like a hesitation every time she encountered an h.  
  
"Hi, I'm Jeanette. I'm not sure if you remember me, but--"  
  
"You. oh, I remember you. Bill talks of you. You caused his brothers trouble. You like to spend." Jeanette forced a smile and blushed once again.  
  
"Yeah, that's me. Um. Here's a present." She presented Fleur the basket.  
  
"Why?" Fleur immediately took and smiled prettily. She obviously didn't think much of a gift from an ill-dressed girl standing in front of her. Still, she was slightly suspicious.  
  
"So we can be friends and you can help me with when I'm in trouble with Fred and George." Jeanette said quickly. It was a reasonable though lame excuse.  
  
"Fleur?" Bill's voice was eerily close. There were two pairs of footsteps following him.  
  
"Like right now." Jeanette added.  
  
"Under ze desk," Fleur whispered. Jeanette had just made it when Bill, Fred, and George entered the cubicle.  
  
"Fleur, when do you get off?" Bill asked.  
  
"Our or so." She said.  
  
"Fred and George would like to find out about their new employee's background."  
  
"She's jus e a little girl. She h.as no account, no license."  
  
"But her parents should have set a trust fund for her somewhere." Said Bill. "I'd usually do this myself, but I just got off. Can you look at the Gringott's branch in America?"  
  
"Zere are other banks in America." Bill gave a begging look. "I'll do what I can." Fleur sighed.  
  
"Thanks." From her vantage point the desk, she could see Fleur lean back on the chair as an arm wrapped around waist. There was odd wet sound. They were kissing. Gross!  
  
"Au revoir," said Fleur. Jeanette waited a moment before climbing out from under the desk.  
  
"What's going on?" Jeanette asked.  
  
"You seem to be quite a wealthy young girl," said Fleur lightly. "Wealth zat seems to come out of de air."  
  
"I'm honest." Jeanette said indignantly.  
  
"Then where are you getting all your money."  
  
"It's. it's. from my dowry. I have to keep a low profile." Jeanette was lying through her teeth.  
  
"You don't like your fiancé?"  
  
"He's ugly, old, and a jerk." Jeanette said.  
  
"What's his name?"  
  
"I can't tell you." She said slowly. She smiled, "I better get back now or Fred and George will find out that I've escaped and they'll skin me. Enjoy the gift. She left before Fleur could ask anymore questions. "Oh," she poked her head back into the cubicle," please don't tell anyone. Mrs. Weasley will" she blushed, remembering Mrs. Weasley's affectionate behavior, "well. you know."  
  
When she climbed back into her room, she was astounded. It looked like a tornado had it. Fred was holding the crates of scrub brushes and George was going through her trunk.  
  
"What are you doing?" Jeanette asked.  
  
"What does it look like we're doing?" Asked Fred.  
  
"It looks like you're pawing through my underwear!!!" George turned pink and dropped the panties he was holding.  
  
"We're returning these." Fred said, hefting the crates.  
  
"Get out. Don't touch my things." She saw the parchment scattered all over the floor. "My recipes." She cried out, sniffing.  
  
"Well, since you went through our things, I think we're allowed to go through yours." Said Fred in a mean voice. Jeanette stared out at him open mouthed.  
  
"I just spent your money, I didn't go barging through your private things."  
  
"You went through our clothes too." Fred snapped.  
  
"I did your laundry. That's different." A tear rolled down her cheek. George grabbed Fred's arm to begin to pull him out of the room. This had gone too far. She deserved the lectures, but nothing was more humiliating than a boy going through her underwear drawer.  
  
"GET OUT!" She screeched, stomping her foot. "OUT! GET OUT!" Her voice got higher and thinner. George covered ears. Damn, the sound could shatter glass. "I HATE YOU!!!" The volume must have been like a hundred decibels. She was screaming at them. Fred dropped the boxes and clapped his hands over his ears. He couldn't plug the sound though. She was like a human Howler. Bumbling, the two beat a hasty retreat. The shrill sounds continued for about a minute before abruptly stopping.  
  
Jeanette bent down and picked up a pearl lying on the floor and slipped it into her pocket. She cried over the sink, her tears hitting the porcelain sink with small clinks of rage, humiliation, and hurt. After an eternity, she stopped. She hiccuped, the Daily Prophet was still clutched in her hand.  
  
Sitting down, her back leaning against the bathtub, she began to read. There was the usual junk about the Dark Lord. Like he was going to show up at a supermarket buying tomatoes like some eighty-year-old witch claimed. Brits were way too uptight. Headlines either mentioned one for more of the following names: Harry Potter, Dumbledore, or He Who Must Not Be Named. Finally, on page twenty-three, there was something new.  
  
"Five American Wizard Children Kidnapped." And what do you know there were five different photos. The first was of a dark, beautiful girl with short sporty hair in a two piece swimsuit. She waved and smiled. The caption under her picture was "Tayesha Williams, age 16." The next photo was of windblown boy in a jersey saying Salem's Serpents. He dodged a bludger. "Jonathan Carter, age 15." The third picture was of a fair-haired, sun- kissed, svelte bespectacled girl smiling solemnly at the camera. It had been her school photograph. Her name was Diana Lustella, also sixteen. The fourth picture was of a dusky boy on a snowboard, spraying the photograph with ice as he came to a sharp stop before the camera. "Thomas Jones, age fifteen." The final photograph was of an awkward Asian girl with an apron on standing over a barbecue. She looked sweaty, sooty, and miserable over the fire. "Renee Lee, age fifteen."  
  
Jeanette began to read. "Last week, five young wizards disappeared without a trace off the campus of CASI (the Californian branch of Salem Institute.) After nearly seven days of police investigations, Wizard and Muggle volunteer search parties, the outcome seems bleak. Last seen on June 21st at approximately six PM. History teacher, Mr. Brown, watched the five walk the few blocks to the nearby library for their weekly study group session.  
  
Mr. Brown, who taught the children Advanced European History, squashed any rumor that the children would run off.  
  
"Wonderful kids. Bright. You know they were taking this course so they could complete units to graduate early. No one would be crazy enough to throw all that away." Parents, friends, and neighbors also agreed that the five were not inclined to reckless behavior.  
  
However, Tayesha Williams, Jonathan Carter, Diana Lustella, Thomas Jones, and Renee Lee never arrived at the library that night.  
  
Muggle Librarian, Lucy Jacobs says, "Every week on Wednesday, the five are here at six fifteen sharp and leave at eight. Good kids, always cleaned up and put their books back. I sure hope nothing bad happened to them."  
  
"Tayesha Williams, Jonathan Carter, Diana Lustella, Thomas Jones, and Renee Lee were known as the Big Five at CASI, the most talented wizards the branch had to offer. These five young wizards not only received top marks in all their studies, but were also active and contributing members of the student body. Williams, Carter, and Jones all excelled in sports. Both Carter and Jones were voted the MVP for the school Quopod team and track team, respectively. Williams received various Junior Olympic Medals for swimming. Lustella served all five years on the student government. Lee served four consecutive years of CASI's National Magic Triathlon (transfiguration, herbology, and charms) and received three consecutive awards as Most Promising Wizard of the Year in Academic Studies. They were due to graduate in mid-summer, one and half years ahead of schedule after two years of a rigorous summer acceleration programs.  
  
These bright young minds were obviously a target of the Dark Lord's diabolical plans for world domination .---" The rest of the article talked about the what ifs and other trash.  
  
Really, everything had to do with the Dark Lord, did it, Jeanette thought. Even though she dismissed article and threw it aside, she could not suppress the tremor that ran down her spine. Were they alright?  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
  
"Go away," she called hoarsely. Jeanette put the paper in the sink and looked at the mirror. Her eyes were swollen and her hair was a mess.  
  
"It's me, George. Just thought you'd be hungry. I'll leave it at the door."  
  
"No, that's okay." She opened the door. George was holding a takeout box and a bottle of butter beer. She took them and set them on her desk. Her room was still in shambles.  
  
"Listen, earlier today. It wasn't right what we did. And. well.. I. I. uh .apologize."  
  
"You're not used to saying sorry are you?" She smiled slightly.  
  
"We're entitled to our secrets and I'll respect that from now on."  
  
"What about Fred?"  
  
"Fred.well, Bill had a talk with him." Jeanette raised an eyebrow. How had this happened?  
  
"Bill was about a block from the shop, when you started.err protesting. He thought we were being robbed and like a hero he broke the front door and met us on the stairway. We told him what happened."  
  
"Why were you in my room?" She snapped.  
  
"One hundred and fifty galleons suddenly appeared in our vault from your account and you still had some left over. We were suspicious."  
  
"So you searched my room." George didn't correct her that technically it belonged to Fred and George.  
  
"Well, look at you! You don't look rich. We thought you had come upon the money illegally, but then we talked to Fleur and we're on your side now."  
  
"What did she tell you," Jeanette narrowed her eyes.  
  
"You and your family had a disagreement on future goals and so you took your jewelry and made off with it." Jeanette sighed, but her relief was not long-lived. George immediately added, "So who's the bloke?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your finance, can we send him some dung bombs or something to break the engagement and you can go home?"  
  
"No, I like it here." George gave her a dubious look. "Really, I do. Minus the searching and yelling, of course. I like the independence. I want to stay here."  
  
"Okay," said George. He understood perfectly how refreshing and nice it was to away from the reach of one's nagging parents. He also knew that eventually Jeanette would get tired of this and scuttle home. Besides, he liked her cooking and wearing nice, clean, ironed clothes. "We expect bright and early tomorrow morning." He tweaked her nose and in that action, she knew that George at least had forgiven her.  
  
(Author's Note: I love happy endings, don't you? The mystery of the pearls comes out next or maybe next next chapter. Please r & r. No more updates this week.) 


	5. Author's Note

Author's Note:  
  
J.K. Rowling is inconsistent with her money system or the economy has been better than ever and prices have plummeted.  
  
Observe:  
  
On page 75 of the paper back edition of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone," it clearly states that:  
  
There are 17 sickles in a galleon and 29 knuts in a sickle. On page 62 of the same book, it cost five knuts for a newspaper.  
  
Easy right? Now let's do some math. If you haven't figured it out already I'm an American and I find it very hard to think in pounds. Let's just say that a newspaper cost fifty cents. It does unless you buy it Sunday.  
  
So each knut is 10 cents.  
  
Therefore a sickle is worth $2.90  
  
And finally a galleon is worth $49.30.  
  
Everything works out right? Right? But then look at the price of Baruffio's Brain Elixir on page 708 of Order of the Phoenix. One pint for a mere twelve galleons. That's about $600.  
  
The final dinger is the foreword in Quidditch Through the Ages where 250 million dollars is equivalent to thirty-four million gallons or 174 million pounds. If you do the math, a galleon is roughly $7.  
  
If….a galleon is worth $7  
  
Then a sickle is worth $0.41  
  
And finally a knut is $0.014.  
  
I don't care where you're from, but five cents won't buy you a newspaper.  
  
So which way is the right way? Dunno, she sort of bounces back and forth. In book 3 page 9, Mr. Weasley won the Daily Prophet Draw and got 700 galleons or $4,900. There is no way you can transport seven Weasleys to Egypt and back, plus room, board, and souvenirs. And have enough left over for new wands and such. Thirty-five thousand is much more probable.  
  
But guess what, Harry's wand cost seven galleons. That is either $49 or $350. I'd rather pay $49 for a little stick then $350 any day.  
  
Now…back to the story!:) By the way, I'm going by the inflated galleon worth. 


	6. To the Weasley's We Go

Author's Note: Why is no one reviewing? My story's not that boring, is it? Now let's on with the show.  
  
Chapter five: To the Weasley's We Go  
  
The rest of the week went without a hitch. Fred was still distant, but he didn't yell anymore. George was the one who showed Jeanette around the shop, telling how much this cost and how much that cost, when to haggle and when to be firm. Fred locked himself in the lab, did experiments, and avoided Jeanette at all costs even if that meant missing a meal. George said that Fred was still upset with the lecture their mum had given them.  
  
The customers liked her well enough, though a few had tried to cheat her. George straightened those out pretty quickly. Looking like she was still in school had its many downsides. From being treated like a silly ninny to being petted. Middle-aged witches were the worst, good thing they were few and far between. They thought it was abominable for a young, good girl like her to be working in such a degrading shop like Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Jeanette always wondered out loud that if they considered the place so awful, why did they shop to pull equally juvenile pranks on their husbands, family members, and co-workers.  
  
George told her to nicer to customers. She started sitting on a high stool at the cashier instead of standing, it made her look taller. Eye shadow and big words also made her look older.  
  
It was Friday when a customer finally vexed her. The middle aged witch was looking for something to straighten her louse of a husband. After purchasing some Dinosorpor, she leaned over and stared at Jeanette.  
  
"You're a very pretty girl." The woman complimented her. Jeanette smiled. The woman then began asking questions like machine gun fire.  
  
"Where are your parents? How old are you? Do they know your working here? Do you have a relationship with that suspicious looking boy? Where do you go to school? Are you foreign?…." Jeanette smile twitched. The final question was the real dinger.  
  
"Tell me, are you part Asian?"  
  
"No!" Jeanette said hotly. "I'm one hundred percent Anglo-American."  
  
"Oh, sorry dear, your accent, dearie. I had a Japanese friend once, an American too. Grew up in the States, but she always had a problem pronouncing her "ch" and "g." It's nothing to be ashamed of your heritage."  
  
"I'm of German descent."  
  
"Whatever you say, dearie." The woman left in a huff.  
  
George, who was in the midst of stacking cans, asked what Jeanette was so puffed up about.  
  
"Do I look Asian?" She demanded.  
  
He barely glanced at her. "Well, you have blue eyes and blond hair."  
  
She fingered her nose. It was too short and her eyes were funny too, she thought miserably.  
  
"Okay," he said and went back to stacking cans. She sat on the counter, pouting. Fleur hadn't mentioned the gift at all. Fleur was a beautiful woman and she undoubtedly had a million beautiful friends. Like any lady, she most likely liked the spa and considering how talkative she was, perhaps she would recommend a good one. The plan had been that Jeanette give an entire, specially made spa kit to Fleur, who would tell her friends and those friends would become Jeanette's customers. But perhaps Fleur hadn't liked the present. Perhaps it was a stupid plan of a deranged teenage girl.  
  
At lunch, George said to Jeanette, "Tomorrow we're going to Mum and Dad's and they want you to come too. We'll be staying the night."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Primp yourself or something."  
  
"Why it's just a family gathering thing, you do every weekend right?"  
  
"No, Prefect Percy going to be there and he's been laughing at us for getting a kid employee. He also thinks our business is a joke."  
  
"So you want to use me to prove him wrong and how you always make the right choices."  
  
"Exactly," Jeanette frowned. "Well. Fred and me will be wearing our dragon hide suits, so you can wear a dress and make yourself presentable looking."  
  
"Oh, alright. It'll take time to make the dress." He smiled.  
  
"Start working on it."  
  
Clothes weren't that hard to make. Using her wand, she caused the cloth to drape itself around her. A hole appeared for her head to poke through and the cloth wrapped itself around her changing and cleaving to her body.  
  
Three hours later it was finally down and she modeled it for George. It was an eyelet sundress and without the satiny under dress it might have been indecent which George pointed out quickly enough. Boys had dirty minds. The color was such a pale blue tinged violet that from far away it would have seemed an offwhite. With azure embroidered spaghetti straps, it hung three inches below the knee and was slightly loose. The cloth had originally been satin, but she had interwoven with cotton. The hem was also embroidered in azure. It was a girlish slip and George liked it immediately.  
  
"Won't look like your competing with Fleur." He told her.  
  
"Why would I be competing with Fleur?"  
  
"Cuz now, you're the second best dressed female in the family. But too cutesy," he pinched her cheek, "to make ol' Fleur turn into a harpy. It happened once when she caught Bill looking at another girl. Ugh. Hideous." He shook himself as if he suddenly caught in a bad memory. "Now make yourself another outfit to wear on Sunday."  
  
"Any suggestions?"  
  
"Wear some of your Muggle clothing. It's very chic in America, right?"  
  
"No, it's all we ever wear except for formal occasions." He smiled in a dismissive manner. His mind had already jumped to something else, some other loophole that Percy could rip open. Typical brotherly competition.  
  
"Do something with your hair tomorrow." She groaned.  
  
Seven thirty the next morning, Jeanette was sitting on the toilet cover her fingers gripping the sides while Fleur was stabbing her skull with pins and nicking her scalp with her long manicured nails. Jeanette's knuckles were white with pain and to make it worse Fleur admonished her every time she frowned. It would give her wrinkles. How Fleur knew she was frowning in the first place was beyond the workings of Jeanette's primitive and pain warped mind.  
  
"You ave very zick h..air." Fleur murmured as she grabbed a few strands of Jeanette's streaky blond hair and twisted them tightly. Jeanette bit back a cry. She was going to be bald. Fleur took out her wand and pointed it to Jeanette's head and began muttering in French. The weirdest tingly feeling happened.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Jeanette's hair half up and half down. Her hair in soft waves and some of it had been braided in tight strands. She clinked when she walked, because Fleur being a fashion freak had braided bits of frosty sea glass into her hair. To make it worse, she had a galleon sized hunk of sea glass around her neck on a sea shell chain. She looked like a cross between a hippie and gypsy, instead of sleek. The jangling sounds were distracting as she packed a change of clothes, toiletries, and other necessities.  
  
The twins were bringing their pets and it was up to her to carry the dessert she had made. Fred and George had been suspiciously close to it and she had sworn that if they meddled with it, there would be dire consequences. They had become rather fond of her cooking. She didn't tell them that she had taught her recipe books to cook by themselves with a pair of gloves to help. She was immensely proud of her dessert and consequently extremely protective. She had put it into a large jar and put several unbreakable and cooling charms on it.  
  
They were going by car, because Jeanette couldn't apparate. Even without Jeanette, they would have had to gone by car, because it was hard to apparate with a niffler, a puffskein, a suitcase, a dessert, and a large sack of Weasley Whizzes (possibly to spring on Percy.) However, Fred chose to ignore that fact and complained loudly until Bill cuffed him.  
  
The black Mercedes raised up slowly into the air. Bill hit the invisibility button and drove high above the clouds. Unfortunately, it was a cloudy day and ten minutes later they were lost. Throwing Fred a map, Bill decided to get on the highway to see the street signs.  
  
For some reason it was empty, they had been driving for nearly a minute when Jeanette commented, "Why does it say 'only pool car' upside down?"  
  
"Maybe it's a mistake." George mused. They turned and were head on with incoming traffic.  
  
"We're going the wrong way!!!" Shouted George.  
  
"Pull up," Jeanette said.  
  
"PULL UP," Fleur echoed.  
  
"I'm trying," Bill snapped. The Puffskein began to hum in its cage. Even with all the mayhem going around, Fred managed to kick the cage. The car bucked, the cage went flying, and soon they hurtling straight up, the Muggles continued obliviously on their way.  
  
"We stalling," Jeanette squeaked, holding the headrest in front of her. She was going to hurl. Unfortunately, it was too late when Bill tried to get the flat again and the car flipped in the air. The cage wacked George and the Stupid Git was still being stupidly annoying in this predicament.  
  
Eventually, Bill got the car righted but not before everyone developed claustrophobia. Thankfully, Bill had not disengaged the invisibility charm or the Muggles would have seen some show.  
  
It was another half an hour before they reached the Burrow. Everyone complained of their bruises and bumps and Stupid Git fell asleep. The niffler, Diablo, had gone through the whole thing relatively unscathed, he had dug in his claws into the floor.  
  
"Look, we're free," Fleur gasped finally. It was the most ramshackle house Jeanette had ever seen in her life and she felt that the only thing keeping it from tumbling down was the grace of god. As soon as they landed, everyone scrambled out of the disaffected car. It had nearly killed them.  
  
It was almost time for lunch and Jeanette lugged the heavy dessert out of the trunk. She carried it to the front door which was held open. Everyone else had already gone inside. She muttered a thank you before looking up at the person who was holding the door open for her. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. In front of her was a tall, grizzly bear of a human, terribly scarred with mismatched eyes. He had a peg leg to boot. (No pun intended.) The strange blue one fixed on her face and a surprised yet amused expression lit his grotesque features.  
  
"Didn't think I'd see you here," he said in a gravelly voice. Jeanette visibly shrank.  
  
"Hello, dear. Come in. I see you've met Mr. Moody." Mrs. Weasley poked her face out the door. Jeanette closed her mouth and put a shaky smile on. She entered the house shivering. She was in trouble. 


	7. Once upon a time

Chapter five: Once Upon a Time: An Ancient Tale  
  
"She's hot," said Ron staring at the newspaper. Jeanette handed the dessert to Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"You have to keep it cold," Jeanette said. Mrs. Weasley nodded and put it in the refrigerator.  
  
"No, she's hot." A dark-haired boy said, pointing to the picture in the newspaper.  
  
"Harry, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said briskly, "I'd like you to meet Jeanette Davis." A frizzy brown-haired girl Jeanette hadn't seen put down her dusty book and got up from the kitchen table.  
  
"Bonjour. Comment ça va?" She said sweetly with a very strong accent. Ron blushed in the background. They shook hands.  
  
" Ça va. Tu a parle francais?" Jeanette asked. (translation: Fine. Do you speak French?)  
  
"On peu. Je l'ai appris à l'école." (A little. I learned at school.)  
  
"Moi aussi." (Me too.)  
  
"Oh." Hermione said. She went to her back to her book, coolly.  
  
"Hello, I'm Harry Potter." Jeanette smiled. She glanced at the scar. Until then, she thought scars were somewhat shameful. Something you'd like to hide, but his scar wasn't ugly at all. However, it embarrassed him all the same. He blushed.  
  
"I can hide that for you, if you want." She said.  
  
"Thanks, but no thanks." He replied.  
  
"Hey Jeanette, aren't these people from your school?" Ron asked. Jeanette went over to look. It was the article she had been reading a few days ago.  
  
"Oh. I know them."  
  
"You do?" Ron said incredulously. "Hermione, you come and take a look too. It's your long lost family."  
  
"I don't read the Prophet. It's all rubbish, you know."  
  
"Hermione," Ron growled. Grumpily, Hermione put down her book and looked.  
  
"So what were they like?"  
  
"Don't be silly Ron. She wouldn't know them." Hermione chided.  
  
"Why wouldn't I?" Jeanette demanded.  
  
"It's a big school." Hermione said. Jeanette stared at her.  
  
"She thinks that you would be in different groups." Ron said, helpfully. Though, he wasn't helping at all. Jeanette blushed. They thought she was stupid or something.  
  
"You shouldn't quit school." Hermione said sternly. Jeanette's temper was stoked. Not only was Hermione an arrogant brat, but she was a showoff too. If she knew of the conversation between Ron and her, then she must of known that Jeanette spoke English. Ron might have forgotten to tell her that Jeanette wasn't French, but still...  
  
"What I do with my life is none of your concern." Jeanette said, coolly.  
  
"I think it was very irresponsible and immature to drop out. Even if you're not good at school, you should still stick with it." Hermione shot back, hotly.  
  
"I'm smarter than you any day, Miss Granger." Jeanette snapped.  
  
"Prove it." Jeanette took out her hand and transfigured an apple to a mouse. Hermione squealed and moved away, bumping into Ron. Jeanette changed it back.  
  
"That's not fair. I can't use magic." Hermione pointed out. Jeanette just smiled. "What are the ingredients of a shrinking potion?" Hermione demanded.  
  
"Chopped daisy roots, skinned shrivelfig, sliced caterpillar, one rat spleen, dash of leech juice. Polyjuice potion?"  
  
"Lacewing flies stewed 21 days, leeches, powdered bicorn horn, knotgrass, fluxweed picked at full moon, boomslang skin, a bit of who you want to turn into." Hermione rattled off. "The other names of aconite?"  
  
"Wolfsbane and monkshood. When was the War of Roses?" Jeanette asked coyly. On and on they went, history, potions, magical theory, and everything else Harry and Ron had memorized for their O.W.L.S, but had long forgotten. Pretty soon, the whole family was watching Jeanette and Hermione's yelling match, swiveling their heads to look at each of the girls as they answered the question and made up another.  
  
"They're like bloody encyclopedias." Fred muttered.  
  
"Fred." Said Mrs. Weasley disapprovingly. Ron decided to help.  
  
"Hey, hey I have a question." Ron shook Hermione and she shot him a death glare. "What is the record for the fastest snitch capture during a game?" He grinned proudly, at last he could show he too knew stuff.  
  
Jeanette wrinkled her forehead and looked up. Hermione sighed. "Why do you have to ask such stupid questions, Ron, really? We're having an intelligent conver--"  
  
"Threeandahalfseconds." Jeanette blurted.  
  
"What?" Harry asked.  
  
"Three and a half seconds Roger.no. Roderick Plumpton. 1921. Tushill Tornadoes against Caerphilly Cataplults." She said rapidly.  
  
"WOOOW." The men said. Jeanette smiled prettily at Hermione. She let out a shriek and left the table. Jeanette had only known that because Jonathan was absolutely nuts about Quidditch. He always talked to it about Taylor at the sessions.  
  
"Bill, Charlie would you move the tables outside". Grudgingly, the family split into different directions.  
  
Someone grabbed her arm and dragged into an empty bedroom and locked the door.  
  
"What?!" She turned and Moody was standing in front of her, glowering. "You can see me, can't you?" she squeaked. She stared at the eye and it stared back.  
  
"For a person who's trying to keep a low profile, you're doing a really bang up job."  
  
"It's not my fault that Miss Granger is such demeaning, arrogant brat." Moody continued to glare and she shrank from his gaze. "Well, you wouldn't like it either if people treated you like an idiot. I won silver at the school debate and if that girl thinks she can one-up me."  
  
"Considering the situation I'd be happy my head was still on my shoulders." She pouted.  
  
"I don't like being a ninny. I don't like pretending to be a vain, shallow bubble head."  
  
"And you're not?" Moody asked, dryly. Jeanette blushed.  
  
"How's the illusion?" She touched her necklace and looked into the mirror.  
  
"Good considering your age." Jeanette frowned.  
  
"So it's horrible."  
  
"No."  
  
"If it's not good. It's horrible." She said matter-a-factly.  
  
"How did you ever get elected onto your school government with that attitude?" Taking his wand out, Moody prodded her necklace. Jeanette's nose sharpened ever so slightly and her eyes set themselves a little wider apart.  
  
"Don't you think I look like Diana Lustella? My hair's a little too dark. I hate my hair color." Jeanette said, running her fingers through the streaky locks. "I wish it was back to normal."  
  
"Not even goblins will be able to see you now." Moody said.  
  
"Wonderful. Oh, can I have some of your skin?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To make something that decreases the appearance of scars. I'm in the beauty business now. I never thought that I would be using hours and hours of studying to make nail polish that matches the color of an outfit. So, will you donate to my cause?"  
  
"No." Moody said flatly.  
  
"Your loss." Jeanette sighed and walked out the door, rejoining the family. They were about to have lunch. Everyone had been given a pitcher, a bowl, or something to carry. Jeanette was not excluded. She was handed a pitcher of lemonade and sent outside.  
  
Someone had constructed a huge tent-like structure to protect them from the heat. There were plates and plates of sandwiches and several plates of lemonade, ice tea, and water. There were fifteen chairs for the Weasley family of nine, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Moody, Fleur, Jeanette, Harry, and Hermione. The niffler and Puffskein stayed under the table to beg for scraps. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, tried to stalk the Puffskein more than once, but Jeanette sent it away with a well placed kick.  
  
Jeanette talked to Ginny. She mostly listened as Ginny babbled on and on about Hogwarts, her family, her friends, her difficult boyfriend, and etc. After helping Mrs. Weasley clear the table, Ginny and Jeanette retreated to her bedroom to talk. All the adults seemed to have disappeared and the trio went to Ron's room.  
  
Jeanette looked through Ginny's pile of magazines and they discussed them. They talked about clothes, boys, and other mundane things. It was the sort of thing that a girl could discuss with any other girl and learn nothing from her personality.  
  
Ginny laughed suddenly, "It was funny what you did to Hermione."  
  
"I thought you were her friend." Jeanette replied. Ginny looked shocked. "Sorry, tact was never my forte."  
  
"Neither was school?" Ginny evaded the subject guilefully. Jeanette flushed to her roots, how she wanted to scream at them that she was a straight A student and better than them. Raised in an extremely competitive world, to Jeanette everything was image. If you couldn't wow with looks or with sports, knock them dead with grades. It was a very bad habit, her mother informed her, but that never stopped her mother from calling all her classmates at report card time. At Salem, she was known for her grades and her community service. A real trump card for colleges, the counselors said. Here people were labeling her the "village idiot" or so it felt. Jeanette was naturally not pretty or sporty, and well smartness was all she had and her self-esteem was that she liked to flaunt it except she couldn't.  
  
"Didn't like my teachers. So Hermy isn't one of your best buds, huh?"  
  
"Oh, she's alright. Just a bit uppity at times. You put her in her place."  
  
"I'm as much as a showoff as she is." Jeanette said honestly, lying lazily on her back on the pink bed. She sat up suddenly and brightly mused, "She would be very pretty with some slight altercations."  
  
"You're very pretty." Ginny complimented.  
  
"Really?" She rolled over and stared at Ginny. "You're not to shabby, yourself." She had big, pretty brown eyes, almost hazel. She was only a bit shorter than Jeanette and plumper. Jeanette frowned, slightly jealous, Ginny still had plenty of growing to do while Jeanette was pretty much stuck at her present height. Ginny had slight shoulders. A simple champagne frock would make her fair skin seem even more milky and would probably accent her smoky eyes nicely. Her hair, Jeanette winced internally, was large, flaming mass of untamed curls, but it wasn't something a generous amount of straightening lotion and blow drying wouldn't mollify.  
  
Grabbing her drawstring bag, she grinned. She had thought a full makeup session might occur and she was prepared. Let the experiments begin. Poor Ginny. Poor poor Ginny.  
  
A scant half an hour before dinner, Jeanette added the final touches. It had taken three layers of straightening spells, but now for a few hours Ginny had straight waist length hair with enough wave in the bangs to frame her heart shaped face. She was pretty and with the wavy charm falling out of her own hair, Jeanette was not. She ignored it soggy look, after working on Ginny she was too tired.  
  
She wandered down the stairs after Ginny to help Mrs. Weasley set up dinner. The boys were playing Quidditch except Percy who was having a conversation with Hermione and Bill and Fleur who were probably off doing some of the things boyfriends and girlfriends do. Therefore it was Ginny and Jeanette who lugged bowls of salad, plates of ham, platters of sliced baguettes and cheese, and other goodies to the tables. The final piece was Jeanette's wonderful dessert, which Jeanette considered the most beautiful thing in the world (if you spent two and half hours slaving over it, you'd love it too.) It was still carefully entombed in a frosty glass jar so it wouldn't melt.  
  
"Incoming," shouted Fred. Jeanette looked up from admiring her dessert and saw the bludger hurtling towards her and her precious dessert. Her wand was in her hand and she threw a reflector charm in a fraction of a second. It flew backward and knocked Fred off his broom.  
  
Naturally, everyone flocked to Fred to see if he was okay. He was flat on his back still clutching the squirming bludger.  
  
"Why couldn't you just duck like a normal person," he groaned and let Charlie take the bludger and lock it into a box.  
  
"I warned you of the dire consequences of getting close to my dessert." She replied tartly.  
  
"We're going to eat it anyway, what's the big deal if it's bumped up a little?" Just then, Mrs. Weasley bustled over.  
  
"Fred! Fred! Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, Mum." He got up. "Just surprised that's all." He went over to help Charlie attend to the bonfire. Charlie had told the family how in the wilds of Romania, he and his partner, a Greek fellow, had cooked over a campfire while tracking dragons. Mrs. Weasley had racks and racks of shish kabobs that Charlie was expertly roasting.  
  
Jeanette wasn't sure how Mrs. Weasley ever got to eat, because she was constantly piling food on other people's plates namely Mr. Lupin, Harry Potter, Jeanette, and the twins. Charlie seemed to eating more than he was roasting and the adults were all crowded at one end of the table talking about politics. They seemed to have a grand time contradicting and talking to each other. When Jeanette's parents had conversations about politics or economy, they usually turned to full out yelling matches which ended with each one huffily going to one corner of the house.  
  
The Weasley boys just dug in and had little time to talk. After all the food was gone, there was Mrs Weasley's homemade ice cream and then it was Jeanette's dessert. Mrs. Weasley unveiled it and gasped. The frosted glass had hid it well. It looked like a small tree in a dish of dirt . It was about a foot high covered with green leaves and the branches were jammed with fruits or fruit slices.  
  
"It's really too pretty to eat." Mrs. Weasley commented. Jeanette had a feeling she doubted the thing was edible. Fred plucked a strawberry, dipped it into the dirt (it was really chocolate dipping sauce with powdered chocolate on top), and popped it in his mouth. George selected a slice of peach and copied Fred. Then the rest of the Weasley brothers joined in. There was just enough for everyone to get a slice of fruit except Moody who declined for safety reasons. Fred got another piece.  
  
"That's it?" Ron muttered, his lips smeared with chocolate. As if to answer him, the leaves of the tree turned red and yellow and nuts formed on the branches of the tree before plopping down into the chocolate dirt. The leaves followed until the tree was bare. The wriggling nuts burrowed themselves into the dirt. Then the dirt separated into little squares, each having a leave on top. Ron was the one who grabbed the first piece and with all a hungry teenage boy's zeal, jammed it into his mouth.  
  
"Nougat," he sighed dreamily. In about a minute, the chocolates were gone too. Moody again declined. Jeanette glared at Moody. She considered it a personal insult that he wasn't eating even though everyone else was obviously enjoying it. If everyone was turning into frogs, she might cut him some slack. Everyone watched the tree expectantly. Snow seemed to appear on the branches, clustering before forming balls that hung on the branches like Christmas ornaments. Sap (Caramel) seemed to ooze out of the tree onto the balls, forming little designs. Jeanette continued to stare fixedly at Moody.  
  
He was the first to take one of the balls (they were the size of golf balls) and popped the entire thing into his mouth. (A very difficult thing to do.) He ate it indifferently and raised his eyebrows as if saying, "There I did it!" Harry picked another and fit the whole thing into his mouth. A very strange expression graced his face. It was like he was trying to spit out something but couldn't and swallowed right before Mrs. Weasley could grab him for a Heimlich maneuver.  
  
"It's ice cream." He choked out, shivering. He cast a look at Moody. How in the world had he been able to stuff a golf sized scoop of ice cream with white chocolate coating down his throat without suffering brain freeze? The ice cream spheres disappeared quickly and green leaves once again began to sprout on the tree. Nothing seemed edible.  
  
"The leaves are mints," Jeanette informed and soon the tree was leafless. George who had seen Jeanette making it and had helped cutting the fruit, broke off a small branch and popped it into his mouth. The bark was milk chocolate, the cork was dripping caramel, and the pith was dark chocolate. With a tinge of sadness, she watched everyone tear her precious tree to pieces.  
  
"So where'd you buy it?" asked none other than the snooty, evil, wicked Hermione. I made it you nitwit!!! Jeanette opened her mouth for an insulting retort, her temper flaring up at once, but Fred beat her to it.  
  
"She made it." The faces around the table looked doubtful. "Honestly, I watched you do it. You melted down my entire secret cache Honeydukes chocolate," he put on a mournful face. "My chocolate."  
  
"I didn't know it was yours. I just found it under the loose floorboard."  
  
"Well, we all have very important business to tend to." Said Mr. Weasley rather regretfully. He got up from the table. Everyone except Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ginny filed into the house.  
  
"Should we help, Mrs. Weasley." Asked Jeanette, where were the others going.  
  
"No, go play with Ginny." Mrs. Weasley shooed them away with one hand.  
  
"Where did everyone go?" Jeanette asked Ginny.  
  
"Order of the Phoenix meeting."  
  
"And that is?" Jeanette frowned, she felt rather left out. She felt she should belong in such a meeting since it seemed to involve her.  
  
"Some boring grown up stuff." Said Ginny in a disinterested manner. She was lying.  
  
"Really?" Jeanette asked. She was feeling slightly rebellious. "Want to see a magic trick?"  
  
"Fred and George have shown me plenty." Ginny said.  
  
"Oh, but have they ever shown you a Muggle trick?"  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course."  
  
"Oh, come on. Stop being such a spoil sport and humor me." Jeanette pouted, already making her way to the dying embers of the bonfire.  
  
"Alright," Ginny sighed, "but don't expect me to act surprised."  
  
"I guarantee you that it will be amazing." Jeanette promised. Bending down, she picked up an glowing piece of charcoal with her bare hands. "Here, hold me hand so you know I'm not using magic." Ginny took the wand and slipped it into her pocket. Jeanette walked a few paces before settling down into a bed of yellowing grass. "Sit Indian style across from me. That's it. Now watch." Jeanette grinned. She loved doing this.  
  
Using the ember she drew a line between herself and Ginny. Instantly, the grass caught on fire and red foot high flames shot up before going down again. Ginny gasped. The grass began to issue a thin sheet of smoke.  
  
"I'm going to tell you my favorite story." Jeanette chirped happily.  
  
"Once upon a time, when the earth had barely cooled there was the goddess of the sky and the god of the sea." Figures began to appear in the smoke. "And obviously, they fell deeply and absolutely in love with each other." The figures embraced. "Reasons were number one, because they genuinely liked each other and number two, like any adolescents they did it just because Mom and Pop had said no." Two figures emerged in the edge of the screen, their ghostly faces frowning. "Well, guess what. Air head, the sky goddess, was already engaged to the jock-like wind god." Another figure appeared built like a Beater.  
  
"Of course, Windy didn't like the competition of Salty and vice versa." The other figures disappeared except two which began to move round and round on the smoke screen as if they were in a boxing match. "So like the testosterone driven idiots they were, the two gods decided to fight it out over their lovely lady." A volcano formed behind the two boys and erupted, emitting a thick cloud of blackish smoke. "Just before they were going to seriously beat the pulp out of each other and consequently destroy the earth, Pop (the sun god) and Mom (the earth) decided that there should be a contest."  
  
"Windy, being an pea brain as aforementioned, decided that the test was to destroy a mountain. Smart move, loser. But as hard as Windy could blow he hardly made a dent." A face blew curlicues of pale smoke at the now quiet volcano. The cheeks of the face darkened and finally he swooned. "However, when Salty tried, he succeeded. It's called erosion. Also Salty had the seasons on his side and you know what happens when water freezes in small cracks. The water expands and rock becomes rubble." Another smoky figure held up a trophy and did a ridiculous victory dance. "So then, Salty and Airhead were married even though Mom and Pop didn't approve." Two figures smooched each other while in the background another two figures looked at them disapprovingly. Their cartoon-like faces etched with deep frowns.  
  
They had five children.all at once. And guess what? Airhead didn't even get stretch marks. Anyway, the saying goes that children with mixed parentage are neither fish nor fowl. So it was to every one's surprise when the kids turned out to be two fish, two fowl, and one equine. "Five baby animals appeared.  
  
"The oldest was a unicorn, heir of the stars. Since she was the oldest, she got this attitude that her younger siblings weren't good enough for her. Arrogant prat." There was a figure of a slender girl with a star shaped birthmark on her forehead." The next two were boy twins: a sea serpent and a griffin." Twin boys stood next to each other, grinning. " The last two were also girl twins: a siren and a phoenix. "The two girls primped themselves. "Now the story could have ended happily ever after, but things like these never work out. You see, gods are very much like ancient celebrities. Too much power, too much beauty, and it goes straight to their heads. Well, there was a nasty divorce and the kids were just shuffled along." Two houses appeared and a figure appeared in front of each house. They seemed to have a kicking match with a duffel bag, before the bag split open and revealed five animals.  
  
"Meanwhile, Windy, was a vengeful fellow." A figure rubbed his hands. "He was as vengeful as stupid, and as smart as his name. So he teamed up with the goddess of chaos and they rose Cain. Now Chaos was smart and she used Windy and he never even knew it. Remember, he's a genius."  
  
"The first order of business was to strip the kiddies of their godliness and kick them out of high heaven. Windy scattered them across the earth and the gods didn't really care that much." Multiple figures appeared in the smoke oblivious to another figures shoving the five children of the edge of a cliff. "Air head being really involved with herself, Salty was still hurting from estrangement (he destroyed a mountain for nothing), and the grandparents never liked the marriage anyway, looked on indifferently. Unexpectedly, Air Head started liking Windy, because he was a bad boy. Figures. And Windy promptly forgot all about taking over the world." Two figures embraced.  
  
"Chaos was pissed and launched a direct attack on the gods." A womanly figure stomped her foot and a group of figures fell over like pins. "Low and behold, that's how the Russian Steppes came to be. Utterly, inhospitable. Now for some really weird and unexplainable reason, magic is somehow tied into memory so the kids were perfectly oblivious to the dysfunctional family reunion. Though they were remotely curious why all these natural disasters started happening."  
  
"They mingled with humans, had kids, grew old, and died. Chaos, who was a lot more intelligent than Windy, knew that you couldn't brawl. You might destroy the Earth and that wouldn't be fun, would it? So they used humans instead, like chess except messier." There was the image of a giant chessboard with farmers and woodcutters on it, looking around confused. The woodcutter began to chase the farmer on the little squares with his little ax and the farmer behead the wood man with his scythe.  
  
"Now when you strip a god or goddess of his or her powers, you can't exactly take every single ounce of magic out of them without killing them. Chaos wanted to torment the kids by making them suffer without magic. Her plan backfired miserably, because if you never knew you were a god then you couldn't really miss it."  
  
"Now the gods being horribly selfish and competitive wanted awfully to win the human game over chaos, except they couldn't directly influence humans. They sort of just put people together and set them up to do certain things and then sit back and watch. The gods wanted so desperately to win and to prove how good they were that they did something not very nice. Now gods for all their glory aren't very bright. There's like a zillion of them and one of chaos. Go figure. But occasionally, they had a good idea. Use demi- gods as bishops and knights." The five children are now in oversized armor and attacking each other with little wisps of smoke.  
  
"You see the kids's descendents had been living ignorantly and somewhat happily among mortals and the gods just ruined it by giving back some of their powers. Power without control or knowledge is not a good thing."  
  
"The kids couldn't cause earthquakes or anything, but they were damaging. Fire manipulation was the phoenix's forte and she was countered by the siren (water) or the serpent (ice.) The griffin as before mentioned could see truth and therefore create falsehood and wind. The unicorn was. usually too mellow to do much. Secretly, I think she was just lazy. She had the mundane gifts like foretelling things, reading people's minds, healing, walking into people's dreams and drive them crazy. Real boring stuff. As I said before. They didn't really know their place in the big circle of life so half the time they were buck wild abusing their powers and the other time, they were too conservative." There was a picture of each animal and a small smoky demonstration.  
  
"Soon they were hindering less than helping. The idea was that gods couldn't directly influence people. They couldn't walk among them (not that they wanted to) and meddle in wars (which they did anyway behind the scenes,) but no one ever said half-gods had to keep a safe distance.  
  
"Of course, the gods wouldn't demean themselves to talking with half-gods. It's called godly pride. So for a hundred thousand years, in this gigantic chess game the half gods were merely tools for the gods to use. How, they got them to do stuff, I'll never know. However, eventually Chaos argued that it slanted the playing field and the half gods should be fair game." The chessboard slanted and all the little farmers, woodmen, knights, and demi-gods fell off. "The gods had this ego problem and were confident that their half gods would stay loyal (never mind that they never actually knew that they were being used in the first place) and agreed."  
  
"Chaos won them over (with money) and before you know it, here comes the Black Plague. The good guys (well sorta of good) lost that generation. For the last thousand years of so, the half gods have been the rope in tug of war. You see, whoever controls the half gods wins the battle and the war won't end until the world ends. Now sometimes, there are truces to allow the human population to rebuild and during those times, the demi-gods remain dormant." Chaos and Pop shook hands. "But now the truce is over and Chaos has summoned her new knight, the Dark Lord and surely the old gods will summons the five once again." Jeanette waved her hand and the smoke dissipated.  
  
"But what about the first time--" Ginny interuppted.  
  
"When the Dark Lord rose, somehow the five weren't reborn. They were not needed, because there were adequate human resources like courage, wisdom, and unity. Now he returns and perhaps the five have already returned too. Perhaps they are wandering among us, lost and confused. Perhaps He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named will get to them before your precious Dumbledore. Perhaps all is lost and the world is ending, perhaps all is to be won and Darkness will never rise again. This is the final battle."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I don't. But we've had anything this big before, when evil was so powerful and good was so broken. It's bound to happen, why not right now?"  
  
"Who's on Voldemort's side," Ginny asked eagerly.  
  
"Someone will be. Even though we're siblings, we were never close. Always competing, always angry, and eons of bitterness as we lay dormant between lives. Not since the first time have we united."  
  
"We?" Jeanette flushed.  
  
"Sorry, got a little too caught up in it all."  
  
"Is it true?"  
  
"Everything except the Dark Lord part. I made it up to make it sound more fun."  
  
"Five demi-gods actually exist." Jeanette nodded sagely. "So how do you tell them apart from people?"  
  
"Oh," Jeanette said knowledgeably, "You can always tell the difference between a demi-god and a mortal. First of all, they look different.physically they're perfect though the color scheme usually reflects the animal which can sort of weird. However, they can hide that with illusions especially the griffin. He is the kingpin of the disguise. But there is one thing that they can't hide at all. They can't cry tears like we do, though I guess they feel just like us. They cry gems." Jeanette played with her ember and finally crushed it in her fist. She opened her palm and a line of gems were in her hand.  
  
"Pearls for the phoenix," the first gem was bluish- gray pearl.  
  
"Beryl for the siren," the second was an aquamarine.  
  
"Diamonds for the unicorn," the third was a lovely diamond. She closed her fist.  
  
"And though it's nearly impossible to get them to do it," She opened her hand, revealing a sapphire and a pearly stone. "Corundum for the serpent and moonstones for the griffin." She closed her hand again and opened it revealing the hot red ash of the crushed ember. Under the darkening sky, the dust glowed crimson. "Their blood glitters in the moonlight. But I wouldn't recommend carrying a needle around and poking every gorgeous person in sight at night." She finished dryly. She dusted herself off nonchalantly and got up. "Look the boys are playing Quidditch." She said.  
  
"You want to?"  
  
"Nah, scared of heights."  
  
"We'll fly low." And with that, Ginny grabbed Jeanette's wrist and dragged her toward the broom closet. 


	8. Once upont a time 2

Once Upon A Time: Renee's Story  
  
Jeanette's body ached as she lay on Ginny's bunk bed. She could hear Ginny's whispery snoring. She smiled. Fred. She had got him good. Ginny had been teaching her how to fly and Jeanette had proved extremely inadequate, but after half an hour of coaxing she was actually in the air. She could do a wobbly little path two feet off the ground. She was rather proud of herself. She felt like crowing, "Ha! Take that."  
  
She had broken her wrist after falling out of a two-story window into the bush below several years ago. The act had about scared all the naughtiness out of her. Now she conquered her fear of heights, somewhat. She laughed out loud when she learned how to reverse. However, when she glanced at Ginny soaring effortlessly around her, some of the pride slipped. She really sucked, didn't she? She kicked off a little harder, and the broom bucked her off and she landed hard on her rump. Someone laughed at her, but when she looked up all the boys were deeply immersed with their Quidditch game. She clambered back on and started again, her teeth gritted.  
  
Suddenly, something hit her hard square in the back of the head. She turned and she could see the leather quaffle rolling away. Fred was laughing above her, doing loops, teasing. She wanted to kill him. She kicked hard off the ground and it rose straight up shaking, much quicker than she imagined. Nevertheless, she launched herself at Fred and knocked them off of his broom. They fell ten feet into the dewy, thick foot long grass, Fred taking all the impact. Jeanette landed on top, socked him, and called him a "crap head" before rejoining Ginny for another flying lesson.  
  
An hour of so later, Fred apologized for his behavior in the previous week. The sight of a tousled, dirt streaked Fred with a bruised jaw apologizing gave her a fit of giggles. She forgave him of course, but more because of his appearance than his stammering, red faced "sorry."  
  
It had been a good afternoon, she closed her eyes again, but frowned when she heard a slight creak. She got up and crept towards the door. The door swung open suddenly and a hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. The other hand muffled her scream.  
  
"Quiet." It was Lupin's voice. "Come." He pulled her out the door and down the stairs. Moody was already there. He tossed her a cloak and pulled a dainty pair of silver sewing scissors from his pocket. She looked at him, oddly.  
  
"Haven't you ever seen a portkey before?" He said incredulously.  
  
"No. We use cars."  
  
"Touch it," he waved the sharp ends toward her. She touched it with her index finger and Lupin touched the screw that held the blades together. After a minute, Moody and Lupin both looked so serious that Jeanette felt like she was missing something. She felt stupid.  
  
"Now what?" She asked finally.  
  
"We wait."  
  
"Oh." She said sheepishly. Then she felt it. It was like the first moment when your cart begins to fall on a roller coaster. Not exactly comfortable. Air was pressing against her at all sides, her ears popped, and general nausea began to settle in. She couldn't see and her hair pressed against her face. She was glad of the cloak, she would have been cold in her pajamas. Finally, they stopped and Jeanette trembled and took deep breaths. She was on her feet, because Lupin was holding her arm tightly but her feet were all wobbly. Never again, she took a shivery breath and her stomach fluttered.  
  
"Come on. We'll fly back if you want?"  
  
"Fly?" She whimpered.  
  
"Remus! Alastor! They've arrived," a giant man from the cottage that Jeanette had not noticed called to them. Instinctively, she moved backward.  
  
"Come along, Jeanette. There's nothing to be frightened of."  
  
"What going on? I don't want to," but already Jeanette was allowing herself to be led toward the cottage. The cottage was fairly large and homey. The hairy black bear of a man grabbed her hand and wrist in one giant paw and pumped her arm up in down in a handshake. Her teeth rattled in her head.  
  
"Name's Hagrid. This here's my home. Welcome. Welcome." Jeanette managed a very weak smile. The cottage was full of people. Dumbledore, the face she'd seen on the newspapers constantly since she got here, a tall, greasy man, a short round man, a tall bald black man, and a woman with neon green hair. Jeanette had a very bad feeling about this and she wanted to run, but Lupin still had a firm grip on her arm. She half wanted to thank him for doing so, because she was still a bit dizzy and her stomach felt awful. What were they going to do to her? Lupin led her to the large formal dining table that looked odd with the other handmade furniture. He sat her down at the head of the table.  
  
"Here, have some butterbeer." Hagrid offered her a cup kindly. She took it, the earthen mug shook in her hands. Hagrid was big and he looked extremely scary despite his gestures. The greasy man was downright terrifying gestures or no gestures. Moody was creepy and anyone with neon green hair was questionable. Jeanette had a deeply instilled reverence for elders, respect that bordered fear. Dumbledore looked wise and old, but his tallness and grave expression added to the tenseness of the atmosphere. Even Lupin with his tired eyes and graying hair, there was something more to him than a middle aged man down on his luck.  
  
She took a sip and spilled some of the warm frothy liquid down her front. The liquid was mellow and creamy, but it had a slight aftertaste. It was alcohol and it was good.  
  
"I'm not supposed to have alcohol."  
  
"It's not very strong and you look like you need it." Moody growled. The people seated themselves at the table, Dumbledore sat at the other end.  
  
"But--"  
  
"Just drink it," the greasy man snapped.  
  
"Severus, the poor thing's frightened enough as it is." The woman snapped. Severus simply rolled his eyes. Alcohol won't hurt me, Jeanette thought to herself, but it might hurt them. With that she took a longer sip and the warmness flooded all over her body. It felt very nice, comfortable. She drained the cup and she felt oddly relaxed. Severus snatched the cup and disappeared to refill it, Jeanette supposed.  
  
"So, you like London?" The woman asked.  
  
"It's different. Much colder." Jeanette said simply. Severus returned and slapped down the mug before returning to his seat some of the liquid spilling on the hardwood.  
  
"Name?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Jeanette Davis," the words rolled easily off her tongue now. Dumbledore stared hard at her as if he knew she was lying. He did know she was lying, because Moody knew what she looked like, and well her picture had been in the paper for the last week.  
  
"Girl, take a sip. You look ill." Severus said, rather indifferently. She obeyed and licked her lips nervously. She felt panicky.  
  
"Name?" Dumbledore asked gently again. Jeanette fidgeted. Did they know, if they already knew then it didn't matter, but if they didn't she was in trouble. "That's a lovely necklace. May I see it?" They knew and somehow that made her even more frightened. They knew. She reached up slowly and began to fiddle with clasp. It gave and she felt naked, vulnerable yet heavy.  
  
She had forgotten what it was like to not wear a cool, light illusion. The feel of cloth against her skin, the illusion had covered her skin before and she had puts on clothes over it. How it was like to feel her own hair prick her neck as she moved her head to look at the people around her. They stared and she looked down at her cup. She had forgotten that she was ugly without the illusion. Shame. She was ashamed of how she looked. The necklace was still clenched in her hand and she slid it across the table to Dumbledore. He picked it up, glanced it over before giving it back.  
  
She put the necklace back on, but it was over. The illusion still worked, but not the protected feeling she felt when she wore it. The borrowed confidence of a new image was gone. With a new face, she could act anyway she wanted, but now she was back to being boring, nerdy, useless- -  
  
"My name is Renee Lee." She said needlessly. She was angry at how sad her sounded. There was nothing wrong with who she was, a voice wheedled. Yes, there wasn't, but it was much better to be Jeanette. Firey, smart, exciting, wild Jeanette.  
  
"I know that this is very uncomfortable for you, dear, but you must understand that we are trying to help you." Dumbledore said quietly.  
  
"I understand." She murmured.  
  
"Now can you tell us everything."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"Everything you think we should know about you and your friends." She was Jeanette and that was all they had to know, she thought grumpily. She closed her eyes and tried to collect her thoughts. She was Jeanette, someone else had been Renee and it would easy to tell someone else's story.  
  
RENEE'S STORY***  
  
My parents loved me very much. Sometimes I thought a little much. They always wanted the best for me and they always fought for me. They wanted me to be successful and to them being successful was making six digit salary and the only way to get a six digit salary was to get a good education and go to a good college.  
  
So when I was nine, we moved in the middle of the school year. My sister and I were both enrolled into the Salem Institute in California. At the time, I hated it and I didn't try very hard to fit in. I didn't get along with the other children and vice versa. They were all pure bloods and my father was a human, a nuclear physicist. He hoped that I would give up my wizard half and go into technology like him when I was older. At Salem, we took both magical classes and normal ones.  
  
I wanted very much to make my parents proud and I worked very hard. I wasn't the best in the class, but I did well and the other children and their parents were upset. I ranked sixth in a class of thirty. The other children wouldn't sit next to me at lunch or play with me at recess. And well, I was as much as a brat as they were. I was proud that I was half human and I wasn't afraid to say so.  
  
They were doing construction of the school in some of the upper story classrooms. It wasn't safe, but I hid there with my books at breaks. And one day, the some children asked me to play with them. I was very happy, because by then books had gotten dreary. We played tag in the half finished building. Luna was it and she quickly got Taylor who got Tayesha. They hadn't put the glass yet in the windows, but I didn't know that. I was running and Tayesha was chasing me. I leaned against the wall and Tayesha was coming after me and Jonathan was too.  
  
There was a balcony and I was stupid. I thought I could get to balcony and use the emergency ladder to get down. Except there was no balcony, there were only windows. Windows with no glass and I fell. One of the windows had been spelled with the image of a balcony. I just broke my wrist, but I was punished for playing in the construction.  
  
I didn't tell them about the other children. They were gone by the time teachers came and I was afraid. They had punished me, because I was too proud, loud, and smart. I was afraid of what else they might do, so I had detention and my profile was marked. Disobedience. For the next two years, I stayed away from them.  
  
As we moved into the upper grades, there more children and I made a few friends. Then there was an academic acceleration program that Salem offered that my parents wanted me to try out for and I did. Only four other people in my grade qualified. Tayesha, Luna, Jonathan, and Taylor, the four people that had been at the head of the class the first year I came.  
  
There were many extra classes to take, so all our parents got together and they jointly hired a tutor. It was I think Tayesha's father's friend's son or something. His name was Tony. Tony Shin, we called him "body parts." Our parents got along very well, so naturally we all acted friendly to each other. There were sleepovers, dinners, and study groups together.  
  
Jonathan's parents heard of an internship of some sort and of course my parents wanted me to join. Tony didn't like at all and he pressured us not to join. He said that it was corrupt. I told my parents and Tony was fired. Our parents began having guests come over and of course the other children and their parents came to. One of the men was Lucius Malfoy.  
  
A few months ago, Tony appeared at the study session and he had a newspaper article with him. Lucius had been arrested because he was a Death Eater. Tony told us that we had to flee, not tell our parents, or take anything that could be tracked with us. He knew what we were and for the last year or so he taught us and kept the secret from our parents. We would leave the next day and we couldn't tell anyone where we were going. Tony gave us each a few hundred dollars to travel.  
  
That night I breached the subject about Malfoy getting arrested because he was a Death Eater. My parents reaction was totally unexpected. They did not support the Dark Lord, but they felt that I must join to survive. It was a gift of love, they told me. Backing out this late would be dangerous. I was very upset that night and I cried a very long time. I felt as if I had been betrayed, because our view points were so apart. But now that I think about it, I think they really did love me. They did.  
  
The next day after school, I boarded a Knight bus and left. I condemned them when I got on the bus.  
  
***  
  
Jeanette was crying. Lupin who was sitting closet to her, wiped a tear away. It formed into a big pink pearl as soon as it touched his hand. Every one looked very uncomfortable. Hagrid handed her a handkerchief.  
  
"You say, Lucius Malfoy came to your home?" Severus asked suddenly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Describe him."  
  
"Blond hair, sharp angular features, gray eyes. He was tall and he had a cane. He wasn't very old, maybe in his thirties." She told him, grateful to focus on something else. She noticed the mug that was still full and drank it down, feeling somewhat better.  
  
"Do you know why Voldemort wanted you and your friends?" Severus continued.  
  
"They weren't my friends." Jeanette replied tartly. Hagrid refilled her mug.  
  
"Your classmates," Severus corrected himself irritably.  
  
"We get good grades and you must know what we are. We can do things." She drained the mug and felt happier. She hiccuped.  
  
"Like what things?" Severus prodded.  
  
"Tayesha can do things with water, Taylor with ice and snow, Jonathan can tell when you're lying, do illusions and stuff, and wind, and Luna. She can go into your dreams." Her mug was full again, funny she didn't see anyone put stuff in it. She took a large gulp and smiled. Everything suddenly seemed funny. The black man's head was shiny in fire light like a glossy black egg. Black egg. Ha! She giggled.  
  
"Renee--"  
  
"Jeanette." Jeanette corrected.  
  
"Jeanette, would you tell a lie for me," Dumbledore asked softly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Just do what the headmaster says," Severus snapped.  
  
"Sourpuss," Jeanette giggled and the fire crackled. "My skin is purple." She giggled again. She liked this butter beer stuff. The candles began to flicker. They seemed very pretty. Everyone glared at Severus.  
  
"What? I told you Veritaserum might not work." Severus said, but Jeanette wasn't paying attention. She was trying to see how high she could get the flames. A candle flame shot a foot high, but it was as wobbly as she had been right after the portkey. Was she drunk? She giggled again and the flame almost flopped over. The people were so busy talking to each other that they didn't notice that all the candle flames and the fire in the fireplace was moving oddly. Jeanette was having a ball.  
  
"--story is not true?" The short man asked. Why were they so serious? Couldn't they see that everything was so funny? She called the fire to her and it came lazily and haphazardly. It rolled up her arm. Suddenly a stream of water put it out. She pouted. Her mug was gone and all the grownups were staring at her again.  
  
"Can you tells us when you started to be able to manipulate fire?" Moody asked.  
  
"When I was twelve."  
  
"Do you know when the others started?"  
  
"No, but they were much more adept then me. Tony helped us learn how to control it. I was afraid of the fire in the beginning, but now it's my friend." She giggled. "Friend. Jonathan can fly." She informed. "I was learning."  
  
"How does he fly?" The woman asked.  
  
"He turns into a cloudy thing and he floats like air. I can float a little, but Tony says when I get it right I should turn into a wisp of fire. You want me to try?"  
  
"NO," came the collective response. Jeanette pouted, she felt oddly light headed and when she tried to stand up she was wobbly. The sky was turning light outside. Lupin gave her another mug. It was tea. Fruit tea. Fruity. She giggled and sipped it. It made her sleepy and Lupin scooped her up. She closed her eyes, still smiling.  
  
Author's Note: The plot thickens. So where are the other four? Did they escape or were they captured by Voldemort? Just in case, you're wondering why none of the animals are dragons. Well, a dragon is an embodiment of all five elements. He breathes fire and is equally comfortable living in the sea, on land, or in the air. They are also incredibly wise.  
  
So how can Jeanie be a demi-god, she was born human right? Right, but the "demi-god" thing is a consciousness or awareness rather than a new body or a new individual. There are five families which each carry an animal, but a demi-god can also relinquish his or her power to another individual at special times like on a deathbed. Sometimes the "demi-god" simply disappears at times of peace and stays in between the world of the living and the dead. Obviously, each family has folklore about their creature. The legend is thousand of years old, perhaps starting in the cradle of civilization in Mesopotamia and spread via trade, wars, and marriage.  
  
Jeanette regained the awareness when Harry Potter dueled Voldemort/ Quirrel, but it took her awhile to realize it. And as the awareness deepened, her body began to change to suit her destiny's purposes, but more on that later.  
  
Why did all five grow up together? Because it's just easier that way.  
  
Why does Jeanette get drunk so easily? The butterbeer was not magicked besides the truth potion, it's just Jeanette is alcohol intolerant. 


	9. Mignonne opens finally

Chapter 8  
  
Mignonne Opens  
  
Author's Note: Doesn't it annoy you, when you see a movie and the actor/actress gets drunk, but wakes up the next day smelling and feeling fresh as a daisy? Well, anyway. logically Jeanette should get a hangover. I have never experienced a hangover and in a perfect world, I will never experience one. But life isn't perfect and neither are people. Anyway, after an exclusive interview with my cousin (I saw him drunk once, red as a cherry, but he didn't talk funny), I have decided that the morning after is a very nasty experience so I sorta copied the symptoms of a migraine. (Read the guide on the Tylenol bottle.)  
  
Jeanette spent most of Sunday morning in a painful sleep. When she woke up, she was dizzy, her mouth was dry, and her head felt like it had been run over by a train. Mrs. Weasley finally came and fussed over her.  
  
"Shame on them. Shame! The others are irresponsible, but Remus. You poor thing." She muttered. Jeanette covered her ears, the smallest sound fried her nerves. Mrs. Weasley made her drink a bitter, gritty potion and made her take a cold shower. She looked and felt like a wet cat when she came out. The potion had diminished the pain into a dull throb, but it still hurt.  
  
Getting dressed.was embarrassingly difficult. Her hands wouldn't move the way she wanted them to and her head. Once after a series of ear infections Jeanette had woken up dizzy, as like when she took a step, her foot hit air and she stumbled. Her mother said that her inner ear was unbalanced and poured a teaspoon of olive oil in it. It was that vertigo except worse. Mrs. Weasley got her another potion, but what Jeanette wanted were a few extra-strength Tylenol. She finally got dressed and realized that her shirt was inside out. Groaning, she put her head down.  
  
"When I got a hangover Mum wasn't nearly as sympathetic," Fred said. She turned to look at him and then put her back down.  
  
"Leave me alone or I'll puke on you." She muttered.  
  
"She called me a no good lazy git," Fred continued in a casual voice, she could hear him sit down behind her.  
  
"You are a no, good lazy git," she shot back, weakly. She lifted her head and let it fall back on Ginny's desk. Pain to knock out pain.  
  
"Stop that," he shook her. He put down some pills and a glass a water. It took about five minutes and all the water to remember how to swallow. "Now," he dragged her to her feet, "time to take a walk."  
  
"No."  
  
"If you're going to be embarrassed, rest assured. Everyone already knows."  
  
"What?!" Jeanette said groggily.  
  
"Mum was yelling at Lupin as soon as he got through the front door. Watch your step. She woke the whole house up."  
  
"I don't remember--" They were in the garden now. It was cloudy.  
  
"George carried you upstairs so Mum could properly scold. She went on so long that we all left to get breakfast and then remembering what a fit Mum had been in, we decided that we might as well stay away the whole day."  
  
"You?"  
  
"Couldn't leave you all by yourself, could I?"  
  
Jeanette stared at him, disbelieving.  
  
"George, Bill, and Charlie reckoned I owed you something for the hell I gave you last week." He pulled a muffin out of his pocket and handed it to her. She stared at it. She didn't feel like eating.  
  
"I forgave you yesterday."  
  
"Eat your muffin." She looked at it distastefully. "Just walk then." Fifteen minutes later, the headache was almost all gone and the muffin was long gone. Behind the house, was a wet, grassy, lumpy land. While George was not as talkative and bit more mature, Fred was the regular chatterbox bouncing from topic to topic from girls to whoopee cushions. He was also all extremes, extremely happy, extremely sad (heartbroken when an experiment failed), extremely angry, but never in the middle. He felt everything so whole-heartedly, there was never any doubt about what others thought. He was admirable that away, so confident.  
  
"I was thinking," Fred started. "You're not of age so can't open a shop." Jeanette opened her mouth to protest. "You know, I was thinking about expanding and maybe you could pay us to buy a shop under our names so all the legal gumbo mumbo is hoity-toity and you get everything when you're eighteen."  
  
"The catch?"  
  
"Ten percent of the profits."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Oh, I meant ten percent of each of us so in total twenty percent." Fred added. She punched his arm.  
  
"Whatever." She agreed, just happy fantasizing about her shop. They walked for a few minutes in silence. Jeanette smiling to herself and Fred with his face furrowed deep in thought.  
  
"I don't think it's fair," Fred said suddenly.  
  
"What."  
  
"You got to go to your first Order of the Phoenix meeting yesterday and I haven't." Jeanette looked at him incredulously. Someone would actually want to go to one of those. "So what happened?"  
  
"Nothing much," she lied. "They gave me something to drink and asked me questions."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"I can't remember," she fibbed airily.  
  
"Don't worry, I won't cry." He leaned on her. "I've got enough cash. Moody arrived this morning with a whole stack of papers for you. Tell me, are you an alien?" She laughed. The rest of the day was fun. Fred capriciously decided to teach her how to fly a broomstick and they spent the better part of the early afternoon on that. She could actually zoom at around at the speed of two miles per hour. The rest of the time was spent looking at pictures with Mrs. Weasley.  
  
Fred and George were clearly the rebels of the family. Just when everyone thought they were doomed to be short and solidly built, they sprouted. Still much more vertically challenged than Ron, Bill, and Percy (who over six feet), they were a respectable 5'7 and still growing. There were a variety of pictures of the twins torturing the siblings. A young Ron squalling at the sight of a spider that Fred was tangling from a string. Ron wailing holding a lollipop, a hole in his tongue. Ginny in tears as Fred and George switched the heads of her stuffed animals. A furious young Percy chasing the twins down the stairs. (There was still a dent of the floor, where Percy fell.) George slipping a frog into Bill's unsuspecting pants. The boys playing Quidditch.  
  
The grandfather clock gonged seven times.  
  
"They're coming home." Mrs. Weasley jumped into the kitchen to get to work. Jeanette helped. After dinner, Jeanette went home with Fred and George. The next two months passed quickly with weekly visits to the Burrow and no more Order of the Phoenix meetings. The nonstop fun was only interrupted by an owl, but soon Jeanette was back to normal again, a little quieter but it wasn't noticeable in the noisy, active Weasley household.. She created a variety of new products and perfected her potion skills. Fleur never mentioned the basket. She kept her hands out of the twin's accounts and the twins kept their hands out of her room. They purified Jeanette's exploding substance and consequently all three lost their eyebrows. This led to Jeanette creating eye brow pencils that drew convincing hairy eyebrows.  
  
Time past too quickly and one morning day in late August, Jeanette, Fred, and George were sitting in a room in Gringotts poring over a piece of parchment that Bill was explaining. It was a lease, a lease for a store in Hogsmeade. Fred and George signed the papers, but Jeanette got the keys.  
  
The rest of the day was spent packing and stocking the kitchen with enough food to last them to Saturday. That night they went to a restaurant and Fred broke another surprise. They were opening another Weasly Wheezes and this time in Hogsmeade. The store would be run by employees, but George would be there ever Wednesday and Friday. That meant, of course, that the twins still had a supply of balanced meals. On August 31st, Fred and George borrowed Bill's car and took her to Hogsmeade.  
  
The store was small and dusty from being closed for over a year. There were apartments above the store that were equally dirty. Fred and George had as ingenious ways of cleaning as Jeanette. Together, they enchanted a mess of scrub brushes, mops, brooms, and anything else to clean by themselves.  
  
The old pukey colored green paint was peeling. So while Jeanette covered the furniture and floor with sheets, the twins filled balloons with magical pastel paint and rigged them to a bomb. The fact that it was much than Fred and George's place and the fact that they were both helping made the job go much faster.  
  
While the paint dried, they had dinner.  
  
"So are you going to move in?"  
  
"We bought out Zonko's and so there's no cleaning to do or anything. We just got some movers and stuff." As they walked her back to her shop, they gave her a very serious talk. Jeanette couldn't stop laughing. Imagine, Fred and George both telling her that boys were extremely untrustworthy and should be avoided at all costs. They told her to be careful and to never take any risks and blow herself up. Boys were not to be trusted. If she needed anything, just owl them. They would personally see to any problems. She got two very serious gifts from them: a little pastel blue screech owl and a large Newfoundland dog. They apparated after giving her a peck on the cheek.  
  
The next day was filled with making stuff and putting them in pretty jars with ribbons. By the end of the day, the backroom was full. The shelves were still pretty full of ingredients and on the floor were stacked piles of products. Her two cauldrons took up a large amount of space.  
  
(A/N: skip next paragraph if you don't care what Jeanette's apartment looks like)  
  
Upstairs was a fifteen by twenty studio apartment. The staircase was enchanted so it didn't take up any room. As soon as you walked in you saw the kitchen counter. She put three glass vases with silk flowers on the counter to breakup the space. Tall stools fit under the table counter. The counter extended to one and half space opening before the wall of the bathroom. Once in the apartment you first passed a row of pegs of your left side to hang clothes. The left wall had a soothing Japanese scroll. Turning right you hit a glass and metal coffee table, under it were celadon colored sitting cushions. On the table was a single glass tumbler with bamboo in it. It doubled as a work place. Shelves were on the entrance wall. They were clear plastic and the far left shelves were full of books, folders, and little bamboo scroll holders. They were pretty with black ink decoration, some contained parchment and others writing utensils. The center and right shelves had aesthetic things. A few vases, seashells, and there was big gap where her new stereo would be. It had cost a fortune and she was shipping it all the way from Japan. A movable gauzy blue curtain shielded her sofa bed from view. The sofa bed was next to an extremely long window that faced east. She could open it if she had extra guests or at night. Her trunk was at the foot of the bed and in the corner was a hanging owl cage. She had cut a small circular window for Frederick, the owl. She had named it after the person who had given it to her. The bedroom was enchanted to be bigger than it seemed or at least it would in a few days after the plumber was done with it. The carpet was white, plush, and still a little damp from the furious cleaning. The room was down in soft powder blue, flecked in places with the occasional celadon or lavender. Cool colors made things seem bigger. She also had skylights put in, no candles please. She did have a little lamp on her counter though. She was praying that her business would skyrocket.  
  
On September 2nd, the day Harry and his friends started school. Jeanette's Mignonne was open for business. The shelves were stacked with products. The display tables had her wonderful dessert tree and a selection of products to test. The two sinks had towels and soap. The only problem was no customers. Hour and then hours passed. Jeanette fiddled with the displays, jumping when ever she saw someone walk by. She fidgeted and by lunch time, she was beginning to wonder if all this was a mistake. She closed the shop to go to the Three Broomsticks for lunch and rushed back filled with a new hope. Still no customers. No customers. 


	10. Windy Day

Chapter 9  
  
Windy Day  
  
Ten minutes later, the little bell rang and Jeanette sprang up eagerly. It was a cloaked figure. One hand reached for her wand and the other for the alarm. In these times, you could never be too careful. The cloaked man slowly took off his hood, it was Lupin, who couldn't afford to buy anything. He gave her a weak, apologetic smile. Sensitive Lupin, a friend of Jeanette's would have said that he was a "lost soul." For what else would make him so gentle, so kind. He must have gone through something horrible to be so understanding and lonely. But then again, Jeanette's friend was an expert at examining characters in books not live people.  
  
He had a large sack. "Can we go inside and talk?" So Jeanette took him upstairs and fed him hot coffee and biscotti. She wasn't totally without maternal instincts. Seeing Lupin skinny and bedraggled awakened something deep inside of her. There isn't anything as healing as being cared for or taking care of someone else. It made her feel useful for once, since the shop seemed like a flop. It was almost like cooking, homework, and cleaning, it was like physical proof that said, "Hey, I can do this." After having your eyebrows burned off, housework doesn't look half as challenging as before. It was safe, nostalgic, and comforting.  
  
Lupin opened the sack and emptied on the counter. Pearls rolled out in all directions, making sweet sounds as they bumped into each other, her pearls.  
  
"It's taken a month to track all of them down and buy back. It isn't wise to give something so valuable away." He explained. She picked up a large pink pearl and stroked it, she already knew that. There was an unpleasant emptiness when she parted with certain pearls.  
  
She placed all the pink pearls and white pearls in the fruit bowl. "You can have the rest."  
  
"But, it is part of you." Lupin insisted.  
  
"That's not important. These pearls represent emotions, memories that I'd rather forget. I don't need them and no one can control me with that. The pearls are like an extra outlet. You know how crying can ease pain, but they don't make the memories less. You can have them. See that blue gray one?" She picked it up. "Typical teenage depression. The dark red one is anger, hate. Green is jealousy, metallic gray fear, purple is anguish a combo of fear and anger and sadness. Orange ones are guilt, black is hate. The golden yellow is pain. Bright blue is ecstasy. The size of the pearl is the intensity." She placed them back into the bag and handed them to him.  
  
"The white and pink ones then?"  
  
"The white ones are hope and faith, the pinks are love." She ran her fingers through the bowl of pearls. "These things I want to hold with me forever. The pleasant things. You know, if you break one of these pearls, the memory is released. I used to break the pink ones when I got sad. That's why there are so few them. I've used up all the joy and all the happiness before I started with love. I'd share them with my sister."  
  
"Have you contacted your family?"  
  
"No, I think they're in hiding or they're all dead. " Her stomach twisted. She had known the possibility of death for months now, but still the idea that they were gone was frightening. She had pushed it away over and over again, but she couldn't anymore. Her sister and the singing career that had been giggled and whispered about under the covers, was gone. Could Darla even venture out again? That dream was gone. Her dreams of college, she would have gone this year. So many hopes and dreams gone up in flames. Was it her fault? Was she a wimp? She had known the risks of leaving, running away yet in a way she had realized the true effect of it all. Everything was so uncertain. Were they okay?  
  
"It must be very hard." Lupin said in a very understanding voice. It flared Jeanette's already upset mood.  
  
"Do you want me to hurt you?" She snapped. "I'm so itchy, cold. I want to burn, but I can't. I don't want to die. I'm mad." She said emphatically. "They're dead, aren't they? He wouldn't have let them go. And I--" Lupin's face was sad. Was he sure, she wanted to know. Was he absolutely certain? Her family was tough, but.  
  
"It's not your fault."  
  
"Then who is it? You, Tony, the four others, fate, Dumbledore, Fred, George? Can't you see I can't blame anyone, but my--"  
  
"Blame Voldeomort."  
  
Jeanette laughed. "Him. and what kind of satisfaction will that give me? It's pointless to blame him. I can't fight him, I hiding from him in this horrible country. You know future is over. No college, no good job, no future, no family. I'm in self-exile." She paced rubbing her arms. "It's cold and damp here." He put his hand on her shoulder and she shook off. "I shouldn't have left."  
  
"I know you feel helpless, but--"  
  
"You don't know what I feel like, to be so alone and so empty and see everyone so full."  
  
"I do know how you feel." She snorted. "I'm a werewolf, I was bitten as a child. Guess what all things I can't do, all the opportunities I can't have," Lupin said fiercely. "I can't a job always living others. How no one understands even my closet friends. How people want to kill me, how they judge me before they even know what my name is. You actually have a semblance of normal life. I'm worse off than you," he finished breathing hard. Jeanette blushed, feeling angry and miserable. At least he had freedom, he could change and run wild once a month. She couldn't, her skin felt like dirty clothes two sizes too small.  
  
There was a long awkward silence before Lupin finally spoke up.  
  
"Have you ever considered metal working?" She raised an eyebrow. "The magic should be small enough to not be particularly noticeable." She thought it over. She could make little trinkets and sell them. It would be nice, working metal in her hands, melting it till it was play dough like. She could do glass and pottery too.  
  
"Okay." He smiled.  
  
"Do you go out at night?"  
  
"Fred and George say I shouldn't go out after sun down."  
  
"And you shouldn't. No place is safe now."  
  
"I did it all the time in London."  
  
"London was swarming with ministry, but this is a small town. You of all people should know the risks."  
  
"I know, I know," she pouted.  
  
"I'm not even sure you should be here by yourself."  
  
"I'm quite viable by myself, thank you," she said tersely. She looked  
at her watch. "If I want to see if Fred or George are here, I better  
go now."  
  
"I'll walk you over." Lupin offered. Jeanette wanted to say no, to show her toughness. But all the talk, the newspapers, they were beginning to chip away her safety net already.  
  
It was about a ten minute walk away. It was jammed packed, she felt a twinge of envy, and she had to wait five minutes before even being able to get into the store. Lupin left as soon as she entered the store. Before the counter was black boy about the age of Fred and George with dreadlocks. She remembered him from her first day, he had been Fred's friend. She squirmed and wiggled her way to the counter. The poor guy seemed to little idea how to work the cashier and was abusing it.  
  
"Is Fred or George here?" She asked. She glanced at the nametag he wore. It said "Lee Jordan."  
  
"No, can I help you?"  
  
"No, it's alright."  
  
"Hey, aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts?" He demanded as if her age had suddenly dawned him.  
  
"No," she turned to leave, but there wasn't much to do. "You need any help?"  
  
"Sure. Go into the back and get another crate of Ton tongue toffees. There--"  
  
"The purple ones," Jeanette finished for him and went into the back. He didn't know the prices of things and kept on having to look for them in a little booklet. She helped him work the cashier and get supplies to closing time at eight. Then she helped him balance the books.  
  
"Thanks," he said finally. "You're Jeanette, aren't you?" He wiped his face. "Fred and George mentioned you'd be here. So don't you have your own shop to rule over?"  
  
"No business." He patted her on the head.  
  
"Hungry?" He asked, finally.  
  
"Fred and George never had a problem with customers, did they?" She said, droopily as they walked to the Three Broomsticks.  
  
"No, but they started advertising for almost two years before they actually opened the shop. And they, sell pranks. Everyone wants pranks, while beauty products. That's only half of the population." He said, soothingly. She picked at her beef chunks and asparagus.  
  
"I need to buy some dog food," she said suddenly.  
  
"I'll take you," he said cheerfully. She got a doggie bag for the leftovers and they walked to the Owl Emporium. It was so windy, the wind tugged at her hair and tried to drag her backward. She was glad Lee was there. It felt as if the wind was screaming. She purchased a twenty bag sack of dog food and some owl treats.  
  
"Hey, Angelina!" A girl across the aisle looked up from Lee's call.  
  
"Lee, how's it been?"  
  
"I'm running one of the Weasley twins' shops. Heard you made it onto the Holyhead Harpies."  
  
"Yes," said Angelina proudly. Jeanette stood awkwardly clutching the can of owl treats. "Your girlfriend?"  
  
"No, one of Fred's old employees, she's been teaching me how to use the cashier. Blasted things, I wish I could get a real job commentating Quidditch. Not that I don't like the job I have now," he said sheepishly, remembering that Jeanette was next to him.  
  
"Where do you go," Angelina asked Jeanette.  
  
"She has her own shop a few streets down." Lee volunteered.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Beauty shop," Jeanette said hopefully. "Two day opening sale. Everything half price?"  
  
"Maybe." Angelina said and went to pay for her animal sized quidditch uniform. From the sound of it, she wouldn't come at all.  
  
"She's something isn't she?" Lee said breathlessly. Jeanette rolled her eyes and got in line. When they went outside again, it was freezing. It was so different from the balmy weather of yesterday. It frightened her. Afterwards, Lee carried the bag of dog food. He helped her carry the food to the backroom.  
  
"Hi, Sable," Jeanette said to the big black dog. "You must be hungry." She gave the dog beef chunks with his dog food and then went upstairs to feed Frederick and refill his water dish. A large brown bird was perched outside her bedroom window. It looked like a hawk and she closed the drapes uneasily. Lee was still there when she came back down. He was devouring her food samples. She had plucked the tree and placed the food on dishes so only the leaves remained on the tree. After so many hours, the ice cream balls were beginning to melt. Might as well let him eat it.  
  
"Good stuff, too pretty though. Makes a guy ponder if the thing is edible. Now a slab of a chocolate, a man can understand." Jeanette held back a laugh. She didn't see any men here, just a pig. Lee said, licking his lips. "How much do I owe you?"  
  
"Nothing, I was going to throw it out anyway. Once you pluck the tree, you can't reattach it."  
  
"It came from the tree? You know, I have a suggestion. You should open the door and stand there holding a tray of your chocolates." He began to walk around, sniffing some of the products and covering his nose. "Hmmm. You have any more food?"  
  
"Do mints count? I have chocolate roses." She got another sample and held it out to him. He might as well enjoy it, the rose was beginning to droop anyway. Good thing she had only taken a few out and stored the rest in the freezer. She got one for herself, comfort food. She pulled a satiny rose petal off the flower and it turned into chocolate. She ate it and Lee followed her example. Lee went to explore more around the store. He found some more roses.  
  
"What do these do?" He held up a small dried rose. He pulled off a petal and sighed when it didn't turn into anything edible. She handed him a card.  
  
"One of my more odder inventions." She told him. "The poem is really corny. It's for romance and stuff." Lee got a very interested look on his face.  
  
He began to read the little card.  
  
"Life without you is really dry  
  
I don't know what else to try  
  
I know we're bound with fate  
  
So please go with me on this date."  
  
The dried rose burst into bloom.  
  
"Hey, it is tacky," he admitted. He shook it, still hopeful that it would turn edible. Jeanette drooped. "Can I have a dozen?" Her eyebrows shot up, was she hearing things? She sold them to him for two galleons. He also bought a box of crooning chocolates that sang the theme of 'Endless Love' until you ate them.  
  
She slept uneasily that night. The wind tore at her window and Frederick wouldn't quiet down. She couldn't blame him. That big hawk might have eaten him. She had bad dreams about things chasing her in the dark. She was flying over a field. The sunset was in front of her and the darkness behind her. There were no stars or moon. She was above a forest. The hawk was chasing her from behind, screeching. Two things were following her from the river below and men were trying to shoot her down with arrows. She knew that if she flew into the sunlight that the demons would go away, but she was too slow. They were gaining. Something pierced her wing and she fell.  
  
She got up an hour early rather than have another nightmare. After getting dressed, Jeanette stumbled downstairs to open a box of crooning chocolates singing 'Can you feel the Love Tonight'. She set a table outside and arranged the chocolates, plucked another tree, and put out a few pairs of massage gloves. They would smack anybody who tried to take more than one. In case, anyone tried to sue her for assault, she made a little embossed sign that read, "One Candy Each, Beware of Gloves."  
  
The weather seemed oddly subdued. There was a distracting and unpleasant silence. It was gloomy but there was absolutely no wind. The air was still and heavy, yet not humid. She thought she was a shadow of a hawk and she crept back inside.  
  
She got five customers before lunch. Four bought food and one asked if he could buy some slapping gloves. She refused, because if someone got hurt she didn't want to get blamed. She offered to sell the gloves to him by themselves, and he agreed.  
  
The next day business was better and Jeanette had put a soundproofing charm on the window. She still sold mostly food, but she convinced a woman to buy some scrub. It was really good for cleaning floors and plus it had a built in cheering charm. She couldn't wait to the first Hogwarts visit in October. Ginny had promised to visit her. Life was hard, but satisfying. She didn't like doing the accounting each night and bills would be a hassle. Lee Jordan came over for dinner.  
  
George also showed up for a short visit with a big basket of produce and food. Mrs. Weasley had sent it over, afraid that Jeanette wasn't eating well. He also invited her to the Burrow on weekends. Before they could sit down and have a real talk, a customer came in. He gave her a grin and a hug before leaving.  
  
Two days later, Lee Jordan reappeared and bought another dozen roses with this rhyme.  
  
"I know I've been really bad  
  
But life without you is rather sad  
  
I know you're still kinda miffed  
  
But please take this small gift"  
  
"What'd you do?" Jeanette asked. Lee looked crestfallen.  
  
"We went out. She wanted to go to a concert. Such a sporty girl and she wants to listen to an orchestra. Never thought that could happen in a million years. So I bought the tickets and we went and it was really boring."  
  
"You fell asleep."  
  
"How'd you know?"  
  
"Educated guess."  
  
"Well, I fell asleep before intermission and when I woke up Angelina was gone and so was everyone else. She called me an uncouth git. I have to show her I'm romantic."  
  
"Why don't you say 'I'm sorry'?"  
  
"I can't say that!!!" Lee was aghast.  
  
Jeanette shrugged. "How would I know anyway? I've never had a boyfriend."  
  
"You have anymore chocolates?"  
  
"Yeah," she led him over and he glanced at them before picking some that sang 'Nobody knows the trouble I've seen'."  
  
That's not going to win her back," Jeanette informed.  
  
"I know. They're for me." He bought another box that sang the cheesy "Forget about Love" and left in a huff.  
  
Author's Note: Lionel Richie and Diana Ross sang "Endless Love." "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" is from the Lion King. I'm not sure where "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" is from. "Forget about Love" is from the Return of Jafar. 


	11. Revenge

Chapter 10  
  
Revenge  
  
Even though Hogwarts supplied one Hogsmead visit about once a month, students found ways to sneak out on weekends and sometimes on weekdays. She never saw Ginny, Harry, Hermione, or Ron, but Ginny was not that daring and HP and gang were probably too busy. Thankfully, Angelina and Lee had put in a good word in for her, because business began to get better. However, she had to quickly shift gears to the teenagers' tastes. She began to branch out and sell anything remotely cute.  
  
One of her most dedicated customers was Pansy Parkinson, who was trying to make herself more attractive for her boyfriend, Draco Malfoy (one of the people she hated most in the world.) Nothing short of a miracle could make Pansy pretty with her eyes pressed too close together, pert, turned up nose, and large rubbery mouth. She was also shaped like a pear with a small bust and a voluptuous bottom. However, dutifully and cheerfully Jeanette tried to help her find the exact shade of lipstick and nail polish. Jeanette's smile getting bigger and bigger with every pair of earrings and bracelets (sterling silver of course) that Pansy bought.  
  
Pansy, who was also a bad student, bought enormous amounts of lip gloss which just happened to reverse anti-cheating spells when a quill was dipped in it. Jeanette was not being exactly honest, Jeanette was simply being banausic. She had to eat somehow. Memory rings were also extremely useful. Originally, they were created to store large amounts of information about your date. But they could also be used to recall notes on test or holding gossip that an average girl couldn't remember.  
  
By early October, Jeanette couldn't stock enough. Her sells were made up with candy, jewelry (including memory rings), and makeup. For some strange reason, Pansy was popular and courting Pansy had paid off by the tenfold by having her equally academically challenged friends flooding to Mignonne.  
  
Things got even more exciting when Pansy burst into the shop late one Saturday night, crying that Draco had dumped her. How he put up with her so long was amazing itself, but Jeanette was all consolation. Half an hour later, Pansy left with a few boxes of chocolate (for herself) and stay- there-till-you-die neon purple hair dye (for Draco of course.)  
  
Eight on Sunday morning, there was a cloaked figure with a Hogwarts signature cloak banging impatiently on Jeanette's glass door. She usually didn't open on Sundays, which she tried to tell him, but he took out a large bag of gold and jangled it. Shrugging, she let him in.  
  
He refused adamantly not to take off the cloak till they were inside and out of sight. Only then did he shrug off the cloak, revealing a sight that sent Jeanette into a fit of giggles. Pansy's idiocy had finally paid off. The girl hadn't read the instructions and had given poor Draco the dye in butterbeer. Dyes contain chemicals and chemicals don't work well with alcohol. Consequently, Draco's hair was a pale lavender...  
  
.his skin was pinky purple and even his finger nails were edged with mauve.  
  
Taking out three galleons he put it in her hand, "change it back NOW."  
  
"I can't do that."  
  
"YOU CAN'T?!"  
  
"Not for three galleons." He began to swear at her. "I suggest you straighten you act Mr. Malfoy, because I reserve the right to refuse to serve anyone." Malfoy put seven more galleons into her hands.  
  
"Just one moment," she walked around the store picking out dyes, bleaches, potions, and pills. "Okay, mix the bleach with some warm water and lemon."  
  
"I would rather that I'd leave as my normal self."  
  
"You really like to waste money, don't you? That'll cost you extra. Well, up this way, Malfoy." She set the water to boil and went into the bathroom to line the floor with plastic. She filled the tub half way, added some drops of potion, and set it boiling with her wand. The tea kettle was boiling when she was done, Draco was idly sitting in her couch, frowning.  
  
"Could you please stop that infernal noise!"  
  
"Would you like to get out?" That shut him up. Taking a cup, she added the bleach, some lemon, and hot water. Handing it to him, she said, "Go into the bathroom, take off your clothes, all of them unless you want them to be purple, drink the potion and sit in there for about an hour or so."  
  
"And what's that supposed to do?"  
  
"You'll perspire the dye out. When your sweat is clear, you get to hop into the shower and scrub yourself with this." She handed him a grainy bar of soap. "Scrub yourself all over or your skin color will be uneven. Here's some shampoo, the sweating should get your roots to get back to their normal color. Then moisturize with this or you'll peel like a snake," she handed him a bottle. "Don't worry, it's unscented."  
  
Opening the bathroom, thick clouds of antiseptic-smelling steam billowed out. Draco seemed to get cold feet at the last moment. She shoved him in and locked the door. Within minutes, she heard furious banging.  
  
She pressed her ear against the door, "What?"  
  
"I CAN'T BREATHE!!!"  
  
"Do you like being purple or not? What color is your perspiration now?"  
  
"Still dark. May I have some entertainment of some sort?"  
  
"No, isn't revenge enough?"  
  
"Good point." He began to mutter to himself and occasionally burst out into an evil cackle. Twenty minutes later, he banged on the door again.  
  
"I'm bored."  
  
"Draw pictures in the steamy mirrors."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Five minutes later.  
  
"My sweat is getting translucent."  
  
Five minutes later.  
  
"It's barely purple."  
  
Ten minutes later.  
  
"I want to go now." Jeanette gently reminded him of his color.  
  
Five minutes later.  
  
"Can I take a shower now?"  
  
"Stick out your arm out where I can see it." She ordered and opened the door a crack. Yup, it was clear.  
  
"You can take a shower now and open the windows. Start scrubbing." When she was sure, he got in behind the blue flowered curtain she went inside and cleaned the puddles of purple ink off the floor. She also got a few towels out for him.  
  
Twenty minutes later, he emerged out of the bathroom the color of milk wrapped in a towel his hair dripping on the carpet. It was still purple.  
  
"Don't you know how to wash your hair?" She asked him.  
  
"I did!!" He insisted. He refused to allow gloves to touch his precious head and so Jeanette found herself washing his hair. He complained every five seconds. His neck hurt, she had nicked him, he was bored, he was tired, he was cold, he was hot, soap was in his eyes. She told him that he was lucky that soap wasn't in his mouth.  
  
Eventually, Draco was dressed again and out of her apartment. His hair platinum blond, his skin white and had a baby-like softness (in his zeal, he had over exfoliated and then lather up on lotion), and his eyes still a violet tinged gray. He was very upset with that, but Jeanette couldn't scrub his eyeballs.  
  
"You have anything I can get back at Pansy, can you?"  
  
"Pansy is one of my best customers." But she stooped under the counter and picked out a rose. "I'd think she'd like this. Smell it." He raised it to his nose and took a delicate sniff, the rose suddenly reared and the petals closed over his nose. He howled and yanked it off.  
  
"What possessed you to make those? They are cruel and inhuman. How many do you have?"  
  
"Remember, I have absolutely no idea where you got those from." Jeanette said, not willing to lose her best customer.  
  
Of course, Monday afternoon, Pansy with a cherry nose was back itching for revenge. Tuesday, Draco with hair sprouting out of his nose and ears came marching in. Back and forth it went for a week and sadly it ended with a truce, but not before Jeanette had made over a hundred galleons.  
  
Author's Note: Like Draco? 


	12. Old Friends

Chapter 11  
  
Old Friends  
  
Jonathan Carter. Handsome, athletic, intelligent, and ambitious. Ever since Jeanette met him, she had secretly admired him. He was the guy who helped break her wrist, treated her with mock-friendship in front of her parents, and cold indifference the rest of the time. He was a kind, generous, and gentle person, but somehow these wonderful attributes didn't pertain to her. But Jeanette never thought he would be. She was mixed, he was pure and he was better than her in all respects EXCEPT charms and history, but she was far too modest person to shove it down his throat. Even if she was that bold, he would probably return the favor by beating her at everything else. She hated him, at times she wanted to kill him, but still you had to admit even though he treated her like trash, he was a decent person and a very good wizard. He did community service, helped tutor, and he was extremely friendly. if you weren't a threat.  
  
Jon was brilliant. The admiration also stemmed from a darker thought. She admired his cunning, his seemingly easiness of maneuvering others into deathtraps and leaving no traces, his lack of guilt. No, he wasn't a psychopath just a teenage boy driven to get great grades and willing to take anyone out. How she wanted to be able to do that to him and let him dangle. But Jeanette never was fast enough, sharp enough, clever enough, she had enough trouble just sidestepping him and the girls were worse. They had all banded together against her, "destroy the runt, and then settle differences." How could she like someone like that? How could she want to be like someone who hurt people? If Jeanette had things her way, she would have hated him, end of discussion.  
  
However, things hardly went Jeanette way which seemed a bit unfair. She was a demi-god for crying out loud, not your everyday witch or muggle. The ambivalent feelings continued and as they grew older, admiration turned to respect, respect turned to like, and like unfortunately turned to infatuation. Make no mistake, Jeanette still hated the boy's guts and had plenty of fantasies about shoving down some steep stairs, on the other hand, she had an equal amount of fantasies about being friends. Jeanette was not that optimistic to think about boyfriend, girlfriend yet, at least consciously.  
  
The reason that Jeanette was obsessing with Carter was because she had had a string of dreams about him. Wonderful dreams, a little too wonderful for comfort. In her dreams, he had grown taller and his sturdy build had turned lean. Were his bones becoming hollow like hers, befit of a bird? His features were sharp, striking and he was nothing but skin, bone, and toned muscle. He was all warm, hot metal. Bronze in his hair, gold in his eyes, and a copperish gleam in his skin.  
  
They were flying away from the sunset toward the night. His hand was comforting in hers. When a bonfire appeared just a little ways from where they were, he stopped and moved a little ways from her, offering his hand. Each time, she got to that part of the dream she woke up. Tonight was going to be different, she told herself. She had gotten immensely curious.  
  
Getting under the covers, she closed her eyes and in what seemed like moments the dream started. She opened her eyes and there he was standing next to her bed, beckoning. This was odd, because before they had cuddled before leaving but this time there was a certain sort of urgency. Instead of being dressed jeans and a T-shirt, he was in wizard clothes. He was wearing an open black cloak with a sleek pair of black pants and medieval looking, half-open, white, cotton shirt. Complete with his ruffled hair, the look suited him. He was never as appearance centered as Taylor, she thought.  
  
She got up and took his hand. He led her to the door and they passed a gilt mirror on the way. Before Jeanette never looked at her reflection, somehow she knew that the illusion wouldn't work and she'd be herself again. Jon was the king of illusions and fitting with his personality, he would want her to be uncomfortable with her appearance. He wanted her meek.  
  
This time, she looked. She had changed. Like Jon, she had gotten taller and more angular. However, unlike him her coloring was hideous. Dark reddish brown hair, almost black in the moonlight. Amber eyes against sandy skin. He stopped and glanced at her reflection.  
  
"He will make you beautiful," he said airily. It was the first time he had spoken. He took her hand again and pulled her down the stairs and outside. The sun was setting and Jeanette turned and stared at it. She felt an odd dropping sensation in her stomach. She wanted get back inside, Jon made an impatient sound and tugged her arm.  
  
They were suddenly in the air, flying very fast against the sun. Soon they were over forest and she saw the bonfire. It cast ominous shadows. There were figures of men. Jon moved a little way from her and offered his hand. Jeanette didn't want to go anymore. She moved away from him.  
  
He grabbed her arm and she screeched. She clawed at him aiming for the eyes. The wonders about being a female was that you didn't have to worry about manly honor. She'd hit him anywhere to get away. He twisted her around so her back pressed against him and pulled her onto the ground. Pinning her to the dirt floor, his knees digging into her shoulders. She tried to burn him, flames licked at his pants, but they wouldn't burn. The flames jumped to try to catch his shirt, it was fire proof too. She tried harder and he hissed. He could feel the searing heat through the cloth.  
  
She taunted him.  
  
A dark hand grabbed her left wrist and twisted it so her forearm was exposed. Her arm went numb and the coldness spread throughout her body. Taylor? Whoever it was, he was behind Jon and she couldn't see him. She looked up for the first time. There were so many hooded and masked figures around her. Laughing, murmuring, she hated them.  
  
Besides the person holding her arm, only one other was unmasked. Extremely thin, his face must have been once attractive, but it had somehow gotten warped. A shock of black hair, a long thin nose, cadaver-white skin, and horrible bloody eyes. He took out his wand and touched her exposed arm. It felt like something acidic had been forced under skin and now was eating its way to the surface. She screamed.  
  
. and fell out bed.  
  
It was morning, she had overslept. Throwing on some clothes and taking a mint, she ran downstairs to set up. Today was the first Hogwarts visitation day and Ginny was coming. She undid the three metal locks and the two magical ones. Things were getting worse on the streets. Everyone covered up in cloaks, not looking at anybody. The streets were filled with ambiguous figures that sent shivers up Jeanette's spine. She sat down behind the counter. Under the bright cheery buildings of Hogsmead panic was bubbling. In times of fear, people did stupid things. A shop was robbed about a week before Jeanette arrived, but the plus side was that scared people went to great lengths to comfort themselves. Bath products, massage gloves, and chocolate were going by the crate.  
  
The bell jingled and a familiar face stepped in.  
  
"God! Jeanette, you look different."  
  
"So do you." Jeanette answered and indeed Ginny looked different. She'd slimmed down, her skin was tanned, and her hair. was in a bop. a very messy bop. "You cut it."  
  
"Yes, it was getting to be a hassle in Quidditch, you know," Ginny said offhandedly and patted it. "So after a really windy game, I took my wand out and."  
  
"It's very sporty," Jeanette offered, if you didn't look too closely. It was uneven. "Want some highlights? I'll charge you half price and I'll even lower myself and do it for you." She grabbed a sign under the counter and put it up. "If In Need of Assistance, Ask For Gloves." It sat next to the sign, "U Break, U Buy, U Cry." She also put up another one, "U Steal, Fido Gets a Meal." She whistled for Sable.  
  
Half an hour later, Ginny was sitting in front of the sink, her hair was even and she had gold highlights. They chatted about Harry, the intolerable Hermione, Ron, diabolical Malfoy (she was starting to like him a business perspective, he made her more money that most of her female customers.) Then conversation shifted to focus on Jeanette.  
  
"You have the cutest logo," Ginny cooed. Holding the carton. The label had "Mignonne" in curly silver-blue letters next to a tiny cartoonish electric blue owl.  
  
"Fred didn't think it was very nice, but he gave me the owl, you know. I even named it after him. He didn't like being attached to such a girlish place, never mind he owns it technically."  
  
"You called the owl Fred."  
  
"Frederick except somehow it dwindled down to Frou Frou in the end. Frou really likes to groom himself for some reason and he steals my marbles to line his nest. I don't know if he just thinks they're pretty or maybe they're eggs." Frou Frou hearing his name flew over. They spent a few minutes cooing over him and rubbing his small rotund belly. There was a chiming sound downstairs and sighing Jeanette went down to get it. She had five customers, some of Angelina's younger friends. Lee Jordan and Angelina were now going steady. The giggling girls all bought beauty products, no food.  
  
"You're having a dance or something?"  
  
"Yeah," Ginny said. "For Halloween. I was thinking, we're about the same size and stuff so could I borrow your dress."  
  
"The one I'm wearing right now?" Jeanette hadn't glanced down once since she threw the clothes. What was she wearing anyway? It was a Greek styled robe, thick crimped straps and fell straight down to the ankles. She wondered what she looked like, after further experimentation she could get her hair to match her clothes with a mint. It was in French-braided plaits that were pulled up and wrapped around her head like a crown. A bit formal, it made her look like she was out of school. "Okay. You want to buy a circlet and some jewelry to go with that?" Ginny frowned and shuffled her feet. "Tell ya wat, you convince all your friends to shop here and you get discounts?"  
  
They ate lunch in the backroom, miso soup, green tea, and sushi each sitting on a cauldron. Ginny told her about Hogwarts, about the houses, and house elves, and the evil teachers.  
  
"Gin, what'd you reckon my house would be?"  
  
"Gryffindor, maybe Ravenclaw. You're so smart. Or maybe Hufflepuff, you're awful nice too." She chugged down the green tea.  
  
"How 'bout Slytherin?" That's where all the Death Eaters were, she thought privately.  
  
"Naw."  
  
"You haven't seen the evil side of me." Before Ginny could ask exactly what was the evil side, the bell chimed again. Rolling her eyes, Jeanette went to get whatever the customer wanted.  
  
It was Jon looking ruffled and cute in his Hogwarts robes, a Gryffindor. He smiled at her and her insides went cold. His appearance seemed to be toned down, his hair not as golden, his skin didn't glitter, and his eyes were dampened. An illusion. He put his arms on her shoulders familiarly, his thumbs stroking the straps. It felt nice. She moved back. A little too nice as in a creepy sort of nice. She was wary of him, but at the same time a voice whispered into her ear, "It was just a dream."  
  
"So acting like a nerd was just part of an act?" He drawled. "You look very nice, Ren," he had shortened her name, her old name, and she didn't like that one bit. After years of treating her like trash, he suddenly showed up out of the blue. He was being way too comfortable.  
  
"What can I do for you?" She asked coolly. "Flowers for a certain girl, chocolates, a manicure?" He had taken her hand now, stroking it. "Facial?" He moved very close to her and at first for the fleetest moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he whispered into her ear, "Join us."  
  
Jeanette pulled away and grabbed the hand that was stroking hers. She pulled the sleeve up, no mark. He smiled at her and with the other hand, he pulled the sleeve back down and a glint caught her eye. On his middle finger was a heavy silver ring shaped like a serpent biting its tail. It had ruby eyes. A face seemed to leap in front of her face, Voldemort. She pulled back, just an illusion to scare you, she whispered to herself. Just an illusion, but everything was so real. She could hear the fire roaring in her ears, the chants, the pebbles biting into her back.  
  
"NO!!!" She shouted.  
  
"Derek!" A voice called behind Jeanette.  
  
"Gin?!" He sounded elated. He smirked at Jeanette. "I see you're busy and I'll come back another time." He then turned his attention to Ginny. "You know her?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. Jeanette used to work for Fred and George." Jeanette looked at Ginny with what she hoped was a shut-up stare.  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"Are you going to the dance?"  
  
"Thom invited me." Was Thom Taylor? What was going on?  
  
"I was in the process of asking Jeanie here, but as you heard she wasn't so keen about it."  
  
"Jeanette!" Ginny said in an exasperated tone. "Come with us." It was seemed like an echo of Jon's request. Join Voldemort. Join.  
  
"No, thanks. So how do you guys know each other?"  
  
"He's a beater." Ginny giggled. "Did he play at your old school? He and Thom just transferred in."  
  
"Well, I'll let you girls talk. Bye, Jean." He kissed her cheek quickly.  
  
"I thought you never had a boyfriend!" Ginny snapped.  
  
"I didn't know I had one." Jeanette said, realizing at once that wasn't the brightest thing to say.  
  
"Derek Turner. He's gorgeous. His blue eyes and blond hair, you guys look so together." Blond hair, blue eyes. Wait a moment, Jon had brown hair and brown eyes. Another illusion.  
  
"Well, I'm not going. He's such a jerk under all that suaveness and a playboy too." Jeanette said sulkily.  
  
"But. but every single girl who isn't out to get Ernie, Draco, or Harry is out to get him!!!"  
  
"If you like him so much, you go with out with him?"  
  
"This is a chance in a lifetime."  
  
"No," Jeanette said firmly, "that's final." Some moments later, Jeanette found herself with Ginny in the storage room of Honeydukes. Ginny was explaining how to get into Hogwarts. Jeanette knew that she better warn Dumbledore. There were a couple of Death Eaters running around. It surprised her that they had joined the Dark Lord. They were always a bunch of jerks, but she always figured that they were good inside. That everything was just some immature death match. They had seemed good, they cared about people, their families. She never thought they would go so far. Didn't they know many people they were hurting? Then again, Jeanette was stupidly optimistic.  
  
There was no way she was going with Jon. She was angry with him and she didn't know why. He was jerk, but seriously didn't she see this coming? She liked the guy and why was she not going out with him, it wasn't like he really liked her and she was going to turn him in anyway.  
  
By the end of the day, she had procured her a date. Neville Longbottom. The little boy never knew what hit him. He was good-looking enough, but a bit on the round side. He also wasn't that tall, not that Jeanette was a giant (she would just have to lay off the high heels) and his hair. Well, she could fix that. He had been poking around looking for something for his Gran. Right after she kissed on the cheek and watched him walk dizzily out the door, the wind picked up.  
  
Running to Weasley Whizzes, she asked Fred and George if she could spend the night after mentioning that she felt like she was being stalked (which she did) she got a rotating body guard of Fred, George, Lee, and some of their other cronies. She figured that Fred and George must have known something about the Order of the Phoenix meeting or else they wouldn't have been nearly as serious.  
  
Author's Note: If you haven't figured it already, Taylor's the serpent, Jonathan's the griffin, Jeanette's the phoenix, Tayesha is the siren, and Diana is the unicorn. 


End file.
